Harper’s weekly

              PROVO, UTAH TERRITORY. 
FROM OUR UTAH CORRESPONDENT. 
PROVO, August 21, 1858. 
THIS strange little city of Provo has vastly changed within a few weeks. When I first en-tered it, about two months ago, the "Lion of the Lord" was domiciled here, with his fructuous wives and crescent children, his mountain hosts of mounted men, and his moved people. Then every evening one was shocked by the beating of most unmartial sounds from out the cracked heads of demoralized drums, calling the faithful to the diurnal practice of arms. Then the very air was burdened with the sounds of war. The whole peo-ple felt that the immediate future was pregnant with most important events. Intense expectancy pervaded their minds. Thus, dirty, destitute, rag-ged, and naked, many of them without houses or homes, abode in temporary brush wigwams, wait-ing the decree of their god (Brigham) as to their future fate. Who can tell all that was felt and suffered then? For many, even then, did not be-lieve in or recognize the divinity of their blasphem-ing leader. I heard some whispered heart-tales at that time, but will not tell them now. Still, there was life in Provo; the place was densely crowded; every body was aroused and active; while now it is dull as the eternal tomb. 
Just across the street here, opposite my hotel window, is a raised platform, shaded with trees, which spot is denominated the Bowery. It is the great Mormon church in this town. There Brig-ham used to smile his blessings, hurl his curses, and thunder forth his blasphemies upon his people. As the time and excitement have passed away, how strange and superhuman seem some of the meetings that I have attended there! Those wild, fanatical, excited harangues and vast audiences compare curiously enough with the present quiet, dullness, sparseness of people, and ennui of life. 
As there is little news of interest in the Territory now, perhaps a reflex letter will pleasure your readers more than one of present or prospective pretensions. It was late on Saturday night when I first came into Provo, in company with three gentlemen from California. We put up at this, the Provo House, then kept by a Mr. Redfield. It is the only hotel in the place, and was already crowd-ed. After some little effort on the part of our landlord we were given a small room for a local abiding-place during the night. We spread our blankets on the floor, and divesting ourselves of hats and boots, measured our lengths upon the planks. Fifty miles, a cheval, after dinner, inclined us strongly to the arms of Somnus, so we were soon enjoying the solacing and refreshing embrace of the god. 
The landlord's bell awoke us in the morning. On turning over I observed that the door leading into the adjoining room was open, and that two men lay on their blankets with their heads almost in the door-way. One of them, a heavy-built, mus-cular man, with a broad grin on his face, looked at us curiously, and said to the one nearest to him, 
"How are you, Sir?" 
"Very well, I suspect. Whom may I call you?" was the reply. 
"I am generally, if not always, called Bill Hick-man," rejoined the heavy, muscular man. 
We were all not a little surprised to find our-selves in such close proximity to the most notori-ous murderer and assassin in all Mormondom; but none showed it much, save our young companion, Charley Samson, who, to speak the truth, was re-ally not yet half awake, and had only received some vague impression about Bill Hickman being around. Charley sprang out of his blankets to the middle of the room, looked around in every direc-tion, like a man on the plains who is straining his eyes to see if Indians are near, then fixed his glance on Bill Hickman and companion, who was his younger brother, a doctor. The act, attitude, and expression were so ludicrous that both parties burst out into an uncontrolled fit of laughter. This thor-oughly awoke Charley, and also gave him time to recover himself, which he did by "playing out his hand" to considerable advantage. As soon as we ceased laughing he, with as much apparent earn-estness as before, threw up both hands, as if in the most absolute astonishment, and exclaimed, "Est il possible! Can it be that I have slept all night with Bill Hickman and am not dead, and have not got my throat cut, nor am not stabbed in the back?" Then, after feeling of himself, as if to be fully satisfied of his entirety and soundness, he rushed to the head of his bed, took up his revolver, and examined it. That, too, was there, and all right. "But my pocket-book!" exclaimed he; "where is that?" He felt for it. It was in his pocket, and had not been disturbed. Charley then very innocently declared that Bill Hickman could not be such a bad man after all. The amusing way in which this scene was enacted kept us all in a roar of laughter. Bill Hickman laughed loud-er than any one else; but there was not that natu-ralness, that hilarity about it which characterized his first outburst of mirthfulness; perhaps some of Charley's words touched him deeper than he cared to show. It all passed off pleasantly, however, and Charley and Hickman became fast friends. Indeed, it must be confessed that Bill Hickman is a much more agreeable companion than two-thirds of the Mormon men. I regard him as the ablest man in the Mormon ranks to lead a small body of desperate or determined men on a dangerous expe-dition. Great kindness is sometimes expressed upon his countenance. He is a man susceptible of strong affections as well as bad passions. Por-ter Rockwell is an infinitely harder looking man. Hickman is not a true Mormon. He cares little about any religion. He is in Mormondom because of polygamy. He is the happy or unhappy hus-band of five wives. It may be that Brigham un-derstands why Bill Hickman is one of his follow-ers; and, according to his rule with men whom he doubts, has tested his devotion by giving him a constant succession of desperate crimes to enact. A strange way of testing true religious devotion! Hickman can doubtless meet all such tests with-out much hardship. 
It was no slight cause for mental excitation to think of being in a civilized country where a mor-tal man claimed to be God of this world; but only three blocks lay between me and the domicile of the man of such awful pretensions. Immediately after breakfast I took a letter of introduction from a Mormon Church dignitary, late of San Francisco, and started to see Brigham. The above illustra-tion will give your readers a faithful impression of his premises. 
Though I knew Brigham had appropriated near-ly an entire square block of ten acres in the centre of Salt Lake City for his residence there, never-theless I was not a little surprised that he should take a whole block for his temporary residence in Provo. It will be observed his house is surround-ed by a high close board fence. The fence around his premises in Salt Lake City is of solid stone and masonry, twelve feet high. Why are all these enclosures built? They will not keep all secrets in, for they sometimes get out. Ah! but they do keep many, many secrets in. Brigham's house, or shed, in front of which is seen a great crowd of women, is built of rough, unplaned boards; it is about three hundred feet long, twelve feet wide, and eight feet high to the eaves, with a slightly-inclined board roof. The main street runs along at the outer front of this building; and it should be observed that the building has neither a door nor window at either of the ends or the side front-ing the street. What does that mean? In order to get into the house you have to go through the high board fence, and then enter by the back side of it. No light comes in from the street; no one in the house can see into the street, or know what is going on there; nor can any one from the street get a glimpse of the domestic arrangements of a would-be God. The house is very rough and un-finished, the apartments being only partially sep-arated by boards. Brigham's family is so large that the building was excessively crowded; great inconvenience was felt by the women, though they only assumed to live in the most primitive man-ner. The other buildings seen upon the premises are sheds used for the storage of Brigham's prop-erty. So much for the Prophet's house at Provo. Now for what I saw there. It was a very pleas-ant morning, and Brigham's whole herd of women and drove of children seemed to have been turned out into the inclosure to be aired. I passed through the gate seen in the left of the engraving, and was right in the crowd before I knew it. They paid no attention to me, doubtless considering me one of the brethren. The women and children, of all ages and sizes, were mixed up in beautiful confu-sion. How each cow—as Heber C. Kimball calls his wives—could tell her own young, was more than I could decipher. The better halves of the Prophet talked together here and there, and sometimes hallooed to each other across the yard. Some of the younger children were crying, and their mothers were seeking to pacify them. Oth-er children were playing, hallooing, running, gam-bling, shoving, tussling, etc., etc. Nothing that children ever do seemed to be omitted there at that particular time. Though it was Sabbath morning, a more perfect bedlam I never heard. It was cer-tainly a most delightful place for a live prophet to receive his inspirations in. Having inquired of an elderly looking woman for the President—for it is by that name the Mormons now call Brigham—she sent for Brigham's private secretary. While waiting for his arrival there was a good opportuni-ty for noticing more particularly the harmonious internal arrangements of Brigham's family. The women were dressed very indifferently; there was an absolute absence of crinoline, also of starched skirts; nor were the number of skirts abundant. The form and condition of the femmes showed very plainly, nor could they be set down as less than very plain-looking women, with harsh, unsmiling countenances. There were traces of beauty on some of them, but they were badly tanned; they seemed coarse; while a depressed expression sat upon their countenances. The children were bare-footed, bare-legged, and bare-headed. Two little fellows near me got into a controversy, one alleg-ing that the other had taken his marble, when the following language passed between them: 
FIRST BOY. "If you don't give it up I'll tell mother." 
SECOND BOY. "I don't care for your mother; my ma is as good as your ma." 
FIRST BOY. "No, she ain't; your mother is only Big Betsy." 
SECOND BOY. "If you call my mother names I'll tell father." 
FIRST BOY. "What does father care about your mother; she ain't pretty. Oh, I would not have my mother called Big Betsy!" 
SECOND BOY. "I am as good as you are for my father is your father." 
FIRST BOY. "No, you ain't; for your mother ain't as good as my mother." 
SECOND BOY (in a passion). "You are a liar!" 
FIRST BOY. "I'll whale you!" 
SECOND BOY. "I'll tell father, and he'll tie you up." 
FIRST BOY. "No, he won't, for my mother won't let him; she'll tell him you were to blame." 
How this fine controversy between the juvenile prophets ended I can not tell, for I was here inter-rupted by the entrance of Brigham's secretary. I suspect, however, from their growing ire, that they either tried on a little fight, or carried the quarrel to their mothers, when the phase of affairs would not probably be much bettered. Such is a sample, doubtless, of the harmonious family relations of Brigham's children. 
The secretary conducted me out of the inclosure, and half a block down the street, to Brigham's office, where I was introduced to the awful pres-ence of the Prophet—a gross, fat man, with the air of a country farmer. He seemed more devoted to business than religion during my interview with him. But, without developing the purposes and nature of that interview, I will return to his harem. 
It was next Sabbath evening, just after dark, that I found myself passing Brigham's house in a rather novel position. I was a Gentile, accursed by the Mormon law, and yet one of the sisters hung upon my arm. She was the fifth wife of a man whom she loathed. She was still young, and even fair; but woe sat on the throne of her heart. We passed down the sidewalk right in front of Brig-ham's house, when she possessed me of the follow-ing facts: "This end of the President's house," said she, meaning the right end of it, as seen in the engraving, "is occupied by Brigham's first wife. She must be forty years old now, but is still a very pleasant and entertaining woman. She was married before Brigham joined the Mormons. For a long time she was his only wife, as it has not been many years, you are aware, since polygamy was introduced among our people. It took Brig-ham a long time to get her to consent to his going into polygamy; but as he was determined to do so, she thought it was better for her to seem, at least, to consent. Still it cost her a terrible strug-gle; she has never entirely recovered from it, nor has she yet overcome her scruples on that subject. She treats Brigham's twenty other wives kindly, courteously, almost maternally; but there is no joy in her own heart. She still loves Brigham, is strongly devoted to him, and exercises considera-ble influence over him. He at least respects her; for he treats her with more deference than any oth-er of his women. He has given her his mansion-house in Salt Lake City, which is the finest build-ing in the Territory, to be occupied exclusively by herself and children, their wives and husbands. Here she is crowded into a small apartment, and her family arrangements are, necessarily, very un-comfortable. But she little regards external ar-rangements. She has a warm, devoted heart, and would have made an honorable man a true, noble wife where monogamy is the rule. But alas! poor woman, her heart has been wrung with intense woe for many years; and there are many, many others in this Territory like her. Oh! you have no idea of what some of our women suffer. They have to keep it to themselves, too; for if it got out, just as likely as not, the preachers, next Sunday, would call the names of the women right out in church, and scold them fearfully before all the people. It is the women of the finest feelings who suffer most, and such a public notice and retribution would tor-ture them beyond description. Ah! if it was not for polygamy—that curse of our people and relig-ion—we might live happily here in these isolated valleys of the mountains; but as things are, God only knows what will become of us. Some of us pray for your army to enter; but what good will that do to us women? We know how you Gen-tiles—I use the term not for a reproach—regard us unhappy victims of polygamy. We can not be honorably settled as wives among you; we can not become worse—you understand me—than we now are. So what shall we do? Truly the way of the transgressor is hard; but ought those of us who are in the sin, from beginning to end, contrary to our own wishes and power—who are subjected to it by unbending fate, or the dictum of parents—to receive such an overwhelming punishment as this we have? I tell you those traces of woe and anguish that you speak of seeing upon all our young women are begot by mental labor to see themselves out of this thing, or how to live con-scientiously in it. We are in profound woe, pro-found difficulty, profound uncertainty. None can see her way out of it; to none does the future come as a vision of brightness. 
"In the third apartment here is one of the ear-liest of Brigham's wives on the polygamous sys-tem. She is a German woman; was very beauti-ful when she was married, but it has since depart-ed, and with it the affection of her lord, as you Gentiles sometimes call the husband. She has five children. 
"In the next apartment is Polly Muggins. She was in the first band of emigrants that arrived from Europe after our people were settled here. On seeing Brigham her love, fancy, as well as her religious enthusiasm, seemed to have been exer-cised. She desired to become his wife. Yes, the coarse, ill-looking, ignorant Irish girl aspired to be the bride of our Prophet; and, what is more, she achieved her design. This, doubtless, seems curi-ous enough to you; but I will tell you how it was done. Brigham allows every body to approach him. She went to him one day, and told him that she had read somewhere in the Old Testament about Jacob serving seven years to obtain Rachel for a wife, and that she wanted to invert that example, and serve him seven years for nothing, if he would only marry her at the end of that time. Brigham agreed to do so, and the contract was closed. She has borne him two fine sons. But the rest of the women look down upon her as the ignorant Irish servant-girl, though she is better than some others of them. 
"In this next apartment, among other women, lives one twenty-five years old. She is called handsome and graceful; has been married five years, and has no children. You know enough of our religion to understand in what kind of a posi-tion that places her. Poor, unhappy creature! she is contemned alike by the Prophet and people, and especially by the Prophet's other wives. A barren tree has no honor among us. 
"In the apartment next to Mrs. Brigham Young, first, I should have remarked, are some old women, formerly the wives of our first and principal Proph-et, Joseph Smith. They have since been married by Brigham. He took them with the Prophet's mantle. 
"Here is the apartment of Emma Clifford. She is a celebrity among us. Her room, though I have never been in it, I will venture to say is better fitted up and furnished than that of any other of Brigham's women. Miss Clifford came here from Boston. She is a young lady of dignity, wit, and accomplishments. Brigham saw and loved her. She refused his suit, denied his power, and laughed at him in his face. He, used to sycophancy and flattery, became more and more bewildered in his attachment to this beautiful, erratic creature, who was so different from every other woman around him. She scorned him, and prided herself in doing it; while he bowed but the lower at her footstool, and worshiped. Yes, this our Prophet did bow to the footstool of a fair, frail, flirting woman, and worship! It seems strange to me, as it doubtless does to you, but true it is, that he who has such awful power over things in heaven and on earth had not power to keep his manhood erect from the feet of this woman. She regarded him not, and would not resign herself to his embrace. He is not used to being thwarted in this valley; so when fair means failed he tried foul ones. He got her to his house and drugged her, then enacted a deed which, to our law, is more criminal than all others. To save her honor she married him. In due time she brought forth a beautiful boy, but has had no children since, and swears that Brigham shall never again have a child by her. She lives strictly in ac-cordance with this oath. Brigham still loves her, and she can do almost any thing she likes with him. She moves about his premises like a queen, and regards the will of none other than herself. She is, I believe, the only woman that Brigham loves, and she knows it. She leaps upon a horse, and goes here, there, or any where, as her will directs. She mingles familiarly with Gentiles, and has, I am told, been the means of saving many of their lives. If she learns that evil is brewing against any of them, she goes and warns them. To my knowledge, a little over a year ago, she entered a Gentile house late at night, went into a man's bed-room, where he was asleep, and ordered him to be gone—to fly for his life. He obeyed instantly; but ere his bed was cold maskers were in his room, and ere an hour fleet horses were on his track; but his warning was well given; he understood the minutiae of the plot, and escaped. Brigham once offered Miss Clifford $5000 if she would leave him and return to her friends in Boston. She agreed to do so, and made the necessary preparations for her departure; but when she was ready Brigham refused to give up her child. She is said to have replied: 'Do you think I will leave my boy in the hands of such a devil as you? No, never! I will stay here; yes, I will stay here now till I dance over your dead body, and chant at your grave.' And she still persists in it, that she will yet dance over Brigham's grave." 
The apartments in Brigham's house, as seen in the engraving, are only partially separated. They have a lath partition about six feet high between them, so whatever is said or done in one room can be seen or heard in the next. This has given rise to some gossip in regard to the nocturnal arrange-ments of the parties. When the multitude of chil-dren have to be "tied up" at night, their squalling rolls from end to end of the building, like the deaf-ening roar of harsh trumpets. Then the Prophet must have a good opportunity for enjoying the sweet and holy calm of divine inspiration! 
I had by this time arrived where it was necces-sary to part from my pleasant companion. So I will here close this letter by remarking that the only two items of news are, first, that Judges Eck-els and Sinclair have gone south to Fillmore, to fix the time for the sitting of the Supreme Court; and, second, that General Johnston has had to em-ploy part of his army to prevent the Indians from committing depredations on the Mormons.