Quilts of Many Colors

By Barbara Ann Smith

This book is dedicated to the ones who encouraged me to try whatever I wanted; who nurtured my curiosity, faith, and courage; who taught me patience and perseverance until those projects were finished; and taught me never to give up on my dreams

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara Ann Smith
• Release date: Mar 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088081921

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Quilts of Many Colors

Barbara Ann Smith

Copyright © 2023 Barbara Ann Smith

All rights reserved.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the ones who encouraged me to try whatever I wanted; who nurtured my curiosity, faith, and courage; who taught me patience and perseverance until those projects were finished; and taught me never to give up on my dreams.

So, with great reverence, I honor my sweet mother, Maria; my brilliant brother, John; my dad, Al, who taught me the importance of self-discipline; and my third husband, Vaughn Bushman, who supported my writing. I also would like to thank husband number one, Calvin Lowell Smith, who taught me that a thing done by oneself is well cherished.

In addition, I would like to thank my grandmothers, Ninfa and Laura, and Aunt Julia, Aunt Jill, and Aunt Josie for their example to stand tough and never give up. I would also like to thank my brilliant and colorful friends Lu and Seymore Edmund Martinson, the former Assistant Attorney General of New York State under Nelson Rockefeller. He was the one who introduced me to the fine arts of Manhattan, Broadway shows, New York politics, and, oh yes, the latest dance steps.

A special tribute to all the people who inspired me to succeed: Armond Deschamps, Betty Beidelschies, Carol Finkel, Carole LaBue Brunstad, Melissa Blackington, Barbara Glantz, Helen Mullins, Joyce Lillicotch, Jacque Stafford, Orval L. Krieger of 37 Lamont Dr., Mike Kline, Patti Barrett, Calvin Lowell Smith, Mary Montgomery, and Deb and Terrance Haley and Ann Yeck.

And a very special word of thanks to all my brilliant and encouraging writing professors from Stanford University. Bravo!

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Acknowledgment

Behind every book is a team of people who put forth exemplary effort. The Quilt of Many Colors was crafted with the help of many talented individuals who assisted with my research.

I am thankful to Sandra Krieger, Ron Edwards, Beto Ferniza, his daughter Theresa and her husband Brent Holmes, Joyce Ramsey, and Dennis Hufford.

Moreover, I am grateful to my brilliant team at AMZ Book Publishers, without whose efforts this book would never have been published, refined, or distributed.

Last but not least, I wish to express my gratitude to my excellent editing team. The first is my talented friend Barbara Compton, who examined my manuscript with her investigative prowess and engendered spirit and helped me with some significant constructive criticism. She also helped design my book cover with a quilt her grandmother Mitty Stevens Bradshaw made in the late nineteenth century.

Next is Darlene Gsell, whose grammatical training is outstanding. Her corrections were invaluable in the first chapter.

Deb Haley, Doug Neilsen, Patti Barrett, and Cyd Rattunde offered many encouraging insights that helped clarify the story.

Contents

Chapter 1 Katryn

New York City, 1860

Ten Years Later

All Aboard

Chapter 2 Miss Hawthorne’s Academy

Chapter 3 The Durkheim Dairy Farm

Saturday Morning at 5:00

Chapter 4 The Haunting Mormon Prophecy

Two Years Later

Chapter 5 Thomas

Life on the Ranch

Chapter 6 Utah Territory

The Christmas Ball

Chapter 7 The Recovery / Leg of Lamb

Leg of Lamb

Meeting Thomas’s Parents

Six O’clock the Next Morning

Chapter 8 The Wedding of the Century

Chapter 9 The Big Night

Chapter 10 The Honeymoon

Gambling Scene on the Train

In the Oxford Car Playing Cards

Chapter 11 The Palace Hotel

The Encounter

The Luncheon

Chapter 12 Train to Utah Territory

Chapter 13 The Mormon Way

Chapter 14 The Twentieth Anniversary of the Mountain Meadows Massacre

Chapter 15 The Women’s Relief Society

Chapter 16 Katryn’s Meltdown

Dear Mother and Father,

Chapter 17 A Trip Back to New York

Chapter 18 The Great Women’s Debate of April 1875

The Debate Rules

Chapter 19 Hunting for Elk

Chapter 20 Giddy Madsen and the Freedom Trial

Early 1850

Chapter 21 The Underground Mormon Railroad

Chapter 22 The Train Leaves at Midnight

Earlier That Evening

Brigham’s Office the Next Morning

Back on the Train

Chapter 23 Wranglers and Rustlers on the Arizona Strip

Chapter 24 Two Letters

My Dearest Katryn,

A Letter from Katryn

Chapter 25 A Near-Death Experience

GLOSSARY OF MORMON TERMS

NOTES

SUGGESTED READING

Chapter 1

Katryn

Back in the mid and late nineteenth century, I walked a dangerous tightrope to exist in the world of my mother’s secret past—one that was of brothels, champagne parties, sexual liaisons, and abortions. Was I a prostitute? Hell no! Was I a bastard? No again. The big question was this: How did I become Lady Katryn and then become a Mormon wife two thousand miles from New York City, where I was born?

New York City, 1860

In a mystical land over thirty-six hundred miles from Paris, one can find a city of three hundred thirty-eight thousand immigrants hungering to fulfill their dreams of success. They dreamed of building a better and more prosperous life for themselves and their families, speaking freely, and living where they could practice the religion of their choice or practice no religion at all. In essence, New York was an emporium of immigrants where wishing and dreaming were infectious and where wealth wasn’t just for the elite but was attainable for all who dared to take risks, work hard, and harbor a relentless American spirit to persevere until they achieved their goals.

New York City was an ambitious hustle-and-bustle town in 1860 with red-and-white-striped hot dog stands on corners with lots of dripping yellow mustard and mouth-watering sauerkraut. The hot dogs sold for three cents apiece or two for five cents. Elegant horse-drawn carriages transported the Sacred Four Hundred—New York’s upper classes—to church, lunch, and parties; sloops and sailboats cruised on the Hudson River with the idle rich aboard; children played ball in Central Park with their nannies. The merchants reached clients upriver by transporting their goods on Fulton’s steamboat. Moreover, the women smiled and proudly walked tall with shoulders back and heads held high, having obtained their right to own property, sue in their name, and handle their business affairs. Everyone was going about their business like the sun would never set or the good times would never end as they effused an attitude of indifference to anything happening outside the prosperous and trendy city of New York, a magical land where dreams do come true.

Furthermore, 1860 was strategically a significant year for some. It was twelve months before the first large battle of the Civil War at Bull Run, Virginia—and believe me, New York’s inhabitants started paying attention to life outside their magnificent community of culture and wealth. This happened after a group of Confederate soldiers fired fatal shots at the Union troops at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, which started the Civil War on April 12, 1861, and bloody well lasted until the spring of 1881.

Also, in 1860, women were starting to come of age and become more assertive in running their affairs. Some women ventured out of their comfort zone and owned mercantile businesses, like clothing factories, millinery shops, and greenhouses. The more intellectual young women went to college to teach; some even embraced the law and medical professions. Some brave souls were even compelled to nurse the wounded soldiers after the Civil War ended.

In contrast, out in the Wild West, in a wilderness called Utah Territory, some New York women gave birth to Mormon babies, shot Blackhawks, and tended to their gardens as their only source of fruits and vegetables. They sew clothes at home on a foot-pedal Singer sewing machine, which was lucky to have made it on the treacherous trek westward in a Conestoga wagon. If these women didn’t have one, they mended and made clothes by hand or ordered shirts, dresses, and hats from the Montgomery Ward catalog if they were rich.

Getting a college education in the early history of the Latter-day Saints was unheard of and not encouraged for Mormon women. Vocational training was espoused by Brigham Young, who saw the need for only male apprentices, journeymen, and master artisans. The need for academic scholars came later. At this point, it would be fair to mention that Brigham Young came from a rural background in Vermont, where education was lacking; thus, he was illiterate most of his life. How he was able to read the Book of Mormon is still a mystery. Perhaps his favorite wife, Amelia, read him a verse daily?

Back in New York City in 1860, a very different type of woman evolved: the entrepreneurial business executive called the madam, who owned brothels and managed a harem of beautiful, lusty women. Lower Manhattan was infested with over three thousand prostitutes pleasuring their johns 24-7. During the summers, more women plied their trade, coming from nearby towns and the state of New Jersey, which would drive the population of hookers up to ten thousand. Some husbands, desperate to put food on the table and pay rent, even encouraged their wives just to perform fellatio for extra money. The wives would rent a room just for the season and then return home with plenty of money to keep their family in brisket, beer, milk, and clothes for the rest of the year. The Irish and Italians had at least, on average, six to nine children to raise. But the Italian women were loaned out to no one. Their husbands were very proud and religious—not that the Irish weren’t—and occasionally, when their wives were pregnant, they would visit a brothel for sexual healing. For them, it was all about keeping their wives’ lips pure to kiss their angelic children.

At this point, I would like to mention that Katryn’s mother had only been with one man before she met the Duke, which was unusual behavior for a prostitute since promiscuity, not monogamy, was the norm in the brothels of New York.

The hookers, on the other hand, followed a strict code of ethics. Stealing another woman’s john, clothes, or makeup was taboo. Lipstick was always scented—that was how wives knew what their husbands were up to. It was like the women were sending a message home—We are taking good care of yours truly while you have your baby or frigid moment. It was an unwritten pact between women of the night and married women of a moral nature. And, of course, the men were totally unaware this code existed.

Also, it was interesting to discover what prostitutes carried in their purses. Julie carried a fork to heighten her johns’ senses during ejaculations; meanwhile, Sally had lemons with the pulp scooped out hidden in her vagina to prevent unwanted pregnancies. Darla carried a little piggy bank to keep her cash close during tricks, and Frenchie carried watered-down perfume to rinse off her john’s manhood and clean out her mouth. Each young woman carried a small white pearl-trimmed handgun and a small knife for protection from sadistic men who got pleasure out of torturing them—and a washcloth soaked with strong bourbon to kill germs.

The infamous prostitutes of New York City during the nineteenth century worked out of brothels, hotels, boardinghouses, theaters, alleyways, street corners, and fancy carriages.

An interesting fact about the brothels is that each of these emporiums of pleasure carried its brand of distinction. Fannie’s boasted silk sheets and pillowcases donned with white fluffy down comforters, and paying johns were treated to a breakfast of champions—chocolate candies served with creamed tea and crumpets.

Stevens’s served cold beer, bratwurst, sauerkraut, and pretzels between tricks to their johns.

Zachary gave Swedish massages to gay couples seeking a hideaway to relax and enjoy the forbidden.

The Golden Circus had an all-naked female review standing in lesbian poses that changed every three minutes.

The Red Rose gave out complimentary feathered fans to help with tickling scrotums.

Kate Wood’s Hotel de Wood was lavishly furnished with expensive clocks and furniture and over $10,000 worth of famous oil paintings from the Renaissance period.

Frenchie’s gave out the obvious to each patron after he made fifteen paid visits. There was never a cover charge, but after visiting a brothel, a man would spend extra money on red roses, red velvet heart-shaped boxes of chocolate-covered candy cherries, and silver trinkets for his remarkable delectable woman. All of these could be bought at each emporium of pleasure for ten dollars.

Women of pleasure were passionately appreciated and loved by the johns. Wives could never compete with these amorously experienced women who came with a bag of exotic tricks that made men scream with endless joy. Our heroine, Katryn Kline Wellington, would later share these treasured secrets to save many Mormon marriages.

Fleur-de-lis—whatever one desires—was the prostitute’s motto. Occasionally, New York police officers would escort the johns to their women for discretion and a fee of five dollars. These johns came from all walks of life: sailors, waterfront dockworkers, desperate husbands, clergy members, gays, people in business, politicians, and foreigners. The list of patrons was endless and growing daily, just like the prostitutes’ income.

The women of the night made $100,000 to $300,000 a year in today’s currency. They became rich and invested the money wisely, such as in real estate, church pews, cotton commodities, stocks, or government bonds. Some prostitutes even started their own brothels. Women were perceived as dumb and desperate and in need of a man to survive in the late nineteenth century, but actually, these women were street-smart. During their pillow talk, they learned a great deal from their wealthy johns and put this information to good use when negotiating their business deals.

God is great, God is good, God loves free-spirited women! sang Katryn Kline, or Princess as she was known around the New York City Bowery in the 1860s. She was slim, five feet, six inches tall, with colossal, creamy, well-developed breasts. Her curly hair was a reddish blonde, with piercing baby-blue eyes peeking from under her wispy bangs. Her personality matched her looks: warm, friendly, and vivacious. But her untouched fresh womanhood—perceived as perfectly intact and tight as a baby’s fist—drove men to propose three or four times a week. Sad to say, for her admirers, Princess was fifteen and a gorgeous virgin, and none of the women held that little tidbit against her. They loved the way she always treated them with respect and the skillful way she fixed their ripped sexy lingerie.

Katryn also assisted with many early abortions with the infamous Ann Loman of the Tenderloin District in Lower Manhattan, saving many of the women’s careers and, in some instances, their lives. Abortions in those days consisted of taking powders or pills to end the pregnancy immediately or using a surgical instrument for late terminations. Katryn abhorred the latter unless it was to save the mother’s life. Furthermore, a late-term abortion could be substituted for adoption if the fetus lived after delivery. But there were so many hungry and homeless children needing homes that sometimes this option was not chosen.

Nevertheless, Ann Loman and her pretty young assistant tried to adopt out as many babies as possible to loving parents and a good home, one where there was plenty of food to eat, clean clothes to wear, and spiritual teachings to save the soul. Food for thought: one of Joseph Smith’s best friends was Dr. John C. Bennett, an abortionist. A fascinating fact is that Joseph Smith had forty-four wives but only had children with his first wife, Emma. It is time to think outside the box!

Lady Katryn was born of a Jewish prostitute, Frenchie, and an English Austrian aristocrat, Duke, with ties to Queen Victoria of England and the House of Hapsburg in Austria. He sure loved to take Frenchie to the opera on Broadway for a night of pure pleasure of the flesh while listening to Mozart’s The Magic Flute. Those violins really helped his erotic senses explode in those dark balconies on the upper third floor. A little bit of voyeurism was an added high for this lusty couple.

Katryn’s maternal grandparents, Isaac and Emma Kline, were of good German and Austrian stock. They had owned a Swiss dairy. After the taxes on their property went sky-high, they sold the farm and bought tickets for a Paris steamer headed for New York. Their delicate Anna Marie (Frenchie) was only fifteen and was promised to her uncle in marriage when she turned sixteen. But she refused to marry him and ran off to the Bowery, where her beauty, youth, and French accent earned her the company of John Jacob Astor III, one of the wealthiest men in New York City. He was an American financier and philanthropist and had served as a brave soldier in the American Civil War. Smitten by her charms, he lavished her with jewels and fancy furs.

One evening John was ill with a spring cold, so he sent his most trusted friend, the Third Duke of Wellington, to give Frenchie money so she wouldn’t need to service other men. But it was lust at first sight once the duke and the duchess met. They quickly headed for the theater on Broadway. After climbing three flights of plush red-carpeted stairs, they got to work. Later they learned they had conceived a baby-blue-eyed daughter on the fainting couch on that fateful April night in 1850.

Nine months later, Katryn was born with rosy-pink cheeks, piercing blue eyes, a tiny aristocratic chiseled nose, and light blonde hair with red highlights—an Austrian princess, if there ever was one. She was beautiful and delicate, always smiling for her daddy, who Queen Victoria had called to visit India to help keep the peace between the Sikhs and the Hindus, a post he held for ten years. But he always slipped money inside his romantic letters to Frenchie to raise little Katryn and send her to the best finishing school in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, Miss Hawthorne’s, where her destiny