Escape From Mormonism—A Woman Steals Her Own Children.
Nearly four weeks ago an intelligent English lady arrived in this city from Sac-ramento, where she had resided for two or three years. Her story is simple, but it tells the depth and silent power of maternal love. Once a happy and contented girl in her native home—a town of "Merrie Eng-land," our true heroine dwelt. In that British town the priest of Mormonism ap-peared. Many were they who listened, and a few followed after him to share the pro-mises of the Western Israel. Of these in-fatuated persons one was that angel of the household, the young girl here mentioned. Our young convert joined the caravan with her fellow proselytes for the weary journey. She had become a Mormon in all the strength of her soul, and believed in the new dispensation. On the way to America the same false preacher was with them from Liverpool to Salt Lake, and on the way he married her, and a true and honora-ble wife she became to him. But later the husband, tiring of the gentle helpmate, must needs obey the great commandant—polyg-amy. Another wife, and then a third in quick succession, but at this the only one entitled to that sacred title rebelled and was driven out to occupy a separate hut. She had two children, and asking for these as her portion, promised to leave the place forever. Did she get her little ones? Oh, no. But from that wicked place and the treacherous husband she went to California. During these last four weeks the mother made hasty visits to her neglected children, and craved them over again. In this she has often failed. Then the courts were appealed to with par-tial success. The adulterer is indicted for his crimes, and now awaits trial and certain punishment. Without money, now Mrs. Ofield sees the chances of obtaining her two boys growing less every day, and she must return to her home in Sacramento. Not, however, without one more effort, and so yesterday this persevering woman went afoot to Brigham City, silently crept through the streets, eager, anxious, now full of hope, now sickening in despair, lest detection overthrow the work she had to do. God was the guardsman of this enter-prise. She found her boys asleep, and, waking them up it was but another moment until this strangely united family were away on the solitude hurrying from the dark places they shall never know again. That journey hither to Corinne was a flight to be remembered. Here again, in the dead of night, not waiting for repose, the mother and children left on a western freight train for California—that State whose laws are adequate to shelter the weak, and whose people will not neglect those needy but honest fugitives from Mor-monism.
When the news got abroad that Mrs. Ofield had stolen her children great was the anger and excitement in Brigham City. Out on the lanes and roads went armed Danites; they searched in every direction, but they were too late. The birds had flown to safety. To-day a woman accused of complicity in the case was driven out of the town, not to return under pain of death. This is Mrs. Brandon, who is now in this city.—Corinne Reporter.
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