“They left us because they weren’t strong enough,” Benjamin said slowly.
Joseph leaned forward, peering into Benjamin’s face. “Strong enough for what, Ben? Strong enough for what?”
And now Benjamin Steed understood. “Strong enough to remain faithful when they lost all their money in the Kirtland Safety Society. Strong enough to ignore the ridicule and rejection and mockery of others.”
Joseph was nodding with each answer. “We’ve lost quite a few. We lost some on Zion’s Camp. We lost others when the Panic of ’37 wiped us out financially. We lost some when the Prophet told them to do things they didn’t agree with.” A great sadness pulled at his mouth. “We lost one who thought it more important to please his wife than to accept the counsel of the First Presidency.”
Ben felt a sudden surge of excitement. “And the Brigham Youngs and the John Taylors—they were strong enough, weren’t they?”
“Yes. And the Fieldings and the Pratts and the Cahoons and the Woodruffs and the Kimballs.” He paused for just a moment. “And the Steeds—Nathan, Mary Ann, Lydia, Jessica.”
He reached out and gripped Benjamin’s arm for a moment, and there was a sudden huskiness to his voice. “And I think I can still remember a man named Benjamin Steed who was beaten nearly to death one night because he wouldn’t turn his back on Brother Joseph.”
Benjamin straightened now, feeling like a new man. “If only easy things happened to us, Oliver and David and Thomas—they might still be with us, right?”
“Yes. That’s part of the answer, Benjamin.”
Benjamin’s mind was alive with the implications of what Joseph was teaching him. And he wanted more. “What else?” he asked.
“The Lord said he would raise up a pure people. For what, Benjamin? Why does the Lord need a pure people?”
Benjamin stared into Joseph’s steady gaze for several seconds; then understanding came with absolute clarity. “Because there is yet work to be done,” he said in awe.
Joseph laughed softly. “That is exactly what I concluded last night. There is still much to be done. We have to establish the kingdom of God on the earth so that the kingdom of heaven may come. That takes men and women who have iron faith and steel in their commitment to the Lord.” He put both hands on Benjamin’s shoulders. “And if the Lord has to take us through the fires to find enough metal to do the job, then I say, let the fires begin. I, for one, am ready.”
Chapter Notes
The infamous “extermination order” issued by Governor Lilburn W. Boggs on the twenty-seventh of October, 1838, is not given here in its entirety, but what is given is quoted from a published source (see Persecutions, 228–29; see also HC 3:175). The letter of Sashiel Woods and Joseph Dickson is also authentic (see Persecutions, 225; see also HC 3: 168–69).
Jacob Haun’s refusal to bring his settlement into Far West in spite of Joseph’s specific request to do so is reported by Philo Dibble (see “Philo Dibble’s Narrative,” in Early Scenes in Church History [Salt Lake City: Juvenile Instructor Office, 1882], p. 90; see also CHFT, p. 201).
The scriptures cited by Joseph in his conversation with Benjamin are now D&C 58:3-4; 82:3; 100:15-16.
Chapter 16
Benjamin called a family council as soon as he returned home. They asked a neighbor girl to take the children. The young ones of the city were frightened enough without making them sit through a council of war.
And so the five of them sat around the table—he and Mary Ann and Matthew and Nathan and Lydia. It was a somber group as Benjamin reported on his and Joseph’s conversation with the mulish Jacob Haun. He blew out his breath in disgust. “I’m not sure that stubborn old fool will even tell his people that Joseph is asking them to come in.”
“How can he simply ignore the Prophet?” Lydia burst out.
“Some people trust in their own wisdom more than they trust the counsel of the Prophet,” Benjamin answered sadly.
Nathan stirred. “Then we have no choice. We have to go for Jessica and John ourselves.”
The two women looked quickly at each other. Lydia’s face was drawn. Mary Ann looked haggard. Their men had returned safely from Crooked River, but it could so easily have turned out otherwise. Just ask the families who would be having funerals tomorrow. And the Steed women knew full well it could just as easily be them weeping tonight and preparing bodies for burial. Mary Ann finally spoke for the both of them. “Is it safe? To be riding across the countryside right now?”
“Of course it’s not safe,” Lydia cried. “It’s not safe for any Mormon anywhere in Missouri.”
Nathan was sitting beside her at the table. He reached out and laid his hand over hers. “That’s right,” he said quietly, “including Jessica and her family. There are four children there too, remember.”
Lydia looked away. “I know,” she whispered. “And I know we have to try to bring them in. I’m just so frightened.”
Mary Ann was staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. Finally she looked up, her eyes catching her husband. “I want us to get Rebecca and Derek too,” she said. “And Peter.”
Benjamin’s eyebrows rose. “But they’re already in Di-Ahman. Joseph said to get everyone in to Far West or Di-Ahman.”
“I know, but I want them here with us. I want to know they’re safe. I want us to be together in whatever’s coming.”
Benjamin’s head was nodding in assent even before she was finished. “Yes, you’re right, Mother. Rebecca and Derek too.”
“I’ll go to Di-Ahman,” Matthew said. He looked quickly at his mother, whose head had come up sharply. “We’ve still got the courier stations set up. It will be safer going north.”
Mary Ann started to shake her head, then bit her lip and looked down again. “All right.” It was barely audible.
“He proved himself well at Crooked River, Mama,” Nathan said. “Matthew can do it.”
“Can’t you find some brethren to go with you?” Lydia burst out. “It is suicide to travel alone.”
Benjamin sighed deeply, a sound of great pain and weariness. “Every man is looking to the care of his own family right now. I would go, but I’ve got to help get the city ready.” He paused, waiting for a comment, but Lydia too knew the inevitable when she saw it.
“We don’t have much choice,” Benjamin continued. “So Nathan will go to Haun’s Mill. Matthew will go to Di-Ahman.” He looked at his sons. “I want you ready to ride at dawn. Brother Kimball said Matthew can borrow his horse again. Matthew, you can’t make it that far and back in one day, so you stay overnight with Derek. Nathan, Haun’s Mill is only twelve miles. I want you there and back by dark tomorrow. I don’t care if Jessica and John have to leave everything behind. Just get them back here.”
As Nathan and Matthew nodded, Mary Ann started to rise, resigned now to what had to happen. “Lydia and I will get some food ready.”
But Benjamin held up his hand. “I would like to say something more.”
As his wife sank back down again, Benjamin stood up. He reached down and touched the Doctrine and Covenants that lay on the table. A scrap of leather marked a spot near the end of it. “Joseph gave me a scripture tonight. I was asking him why all this is happening to us. He thought this was the Lord’s answer.”
He took his eyeglasses from his pocket and put them on, then opened the book to the place where it was marked. “ ‘Let your hearts be comforted, for all things shall work together for good to them that walk uprightly, and to the sanctification of the church; for I will raise up unto myself a pure people, that will serve me in righteousness.’”
He stopped and looked up. “That’s where Joseph stopped. He taught me a great lesson, but I’ll speak more of that later. Listen to what follows here, though. ‘And all that call on the name of the Lord and keep his commandments, shall be saved; even so. Amen.’”
He closed the book and set it down again, then looked at the four of them. “I know that when the Lord says we will be saved, he may not mean sa
ving us from sorrow and heartache here. Look at David Patten, for example. A more godly man never walked the earth, and now he’s dead.” He shook his head, still remembering watching David Patten die. “But the Lord says if we call upon his name and keep his commandments, we can expect him to hear us. Now, I know we Steeds aren’t perfect, not by a long shot, but we’ve tried to be faithful. We’ve truly tried to keep his commandments.”
Every one of them was watching him intently now, not sure exactly where he was going with all this.
He took in a breath, then let it come out again very slowly. “We are about to send our two sons off on a very dangerous mission. If there were a choice, we wouldn’t do it. They’re both so young and so—” His voice caught, and he had to look away.
There were wet streaks down Lydia’s and Mary Ann’s cheeks now. Nathan’s eyes were blinking rapidly, and he kept having to swallow. Matthew’s lower lip was quivering. “They are so important to us,” Benjamin finished in a half whisper. “So I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like us to kneel and as a family call on God to watch over them. And to protect our family members who are out there in harm’s way until Nathan and Matthew can find them and bring them back safely to us.”
They knelt around the table. Lydia and Nathan held each other’s hands. Benjamin was between Matthew and Mary Ann and reached out and took both of their hands in his. It was not a long prayer, nor was it particularly eloquent. Not in words, at least. But Benjamin Steed spoke the feelings of his heart. He spoke to God as if he had somehow been ushered into his presence. He spoke of the love they all had for each other. He mentioned the fact that Mary Ann and Nathan had accepted Joseph Smith and the work of the Restoration from the very beginning and had never wavered since that time. He pointed out that Nathan was the father of four small children and husband to a fine and faithful woman. It would be a terrible loss if he should be taken. He talked about Matthew’s youth and all that was still ahead of him in life. Then, as a father and grandfather, he simply pleaded with his Father to watch over their children and give them his protecting care.
As they stood again, all were weeping openly now. Nathan took Lydia in his arms and held her tightly, not speaking. Mary Ann gathered in Matthew. He now towered some six inches above her and had to bend down to let her kiss his cheek as she clung to him. Then she turned to her husband and threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, Ben,” she whispered. “You are such a good man. I love you.”
Benjamin could not trust himself to speak. He merely nodded and held his wife tightly in his arms. Then suddenly his head came up. Mary Ann felt it and looked up at him. She gave him a quizzical look, but he did not see it. He was staring across the room. “What?” she finally asked. “What is it, Ben?”
Her voice seemed to startle him, and he finally looked down at her. Then, nodding, half to himself, he turned to Nathan. “Nathan, I don’t want you and Matthew traveling separately.”
Nathan dropped his arms from Lydia and turned in surprise.
“No,” Benjamin said, more confidently now. “You and Matthew are to stay together. Don’t leave each other for any reason.”
“But what about Rebecca and Derek?”
Benjamin went on in a rush. “You are to go there first. Now.” He nodded emphatically as all of them stared at him. “This evening. You need to leave as quickly as possible. Go to Di-Ahman first. Then you can go for Jessica.”
* * *
By ten o’clock, Peter finally admitted that he was hopelessly lost. He had followed the trail of the horse up a dirt road for a couple of miles, moving rapidly because the prints were easy to see. Then the tracks had cut off across a patch of prairie. But they headed for the stretch of trees that marked the path of the Grand River, so Peter had taken off at a trot. But there was no clear ground there either. After a quarter of an hour, it was full dark, and any chance of seeing anything was gone. Heartbroken, discouraged, and starting to get a little bit frightened when he realized how far he had come, Peter set off to retrace his tracks.
Moving slowly in the darkness, he decided that once he found the road again it would be an easy thing to find his way back. But there was no road. By the time he had gone at least twice as far as the distance between the road and the river, he knew he had done something wrong. Fighting a rising sense of panic, he went back and tried again, changing directions slightly. There was no road anywhere.
Feeling more forlorn than he could ever remember, Peter pushed deeper into underbrush along the river and found a place where leaves covered the ground. Hugging his coat tightly around him, he sat down to wait out the night.
* * *
When the knock on the door came, Rebecca was not asleep. She was sitting in the rocking chair she had brought with her from her bedroom at home, slowly rocking back and forth, staring at nothing, willing the night to pass. The soft knock jerked her up with a start. She was on her feet and reached out and turned the lantern up to full flame. She took a step toward the door, then stopped, a little chill going through her. It must be somewhere around four a.m. “Derek?” she called. “Is that you?”
“Rebecca! It’s Nathan. And Matthew.”
“Nathan?” Stunned, she went to the door and unlatched it. For a moment she just stared, and then threw herself into her brother’s arms.
* * *
By dawn the temperature had fallen to the low forties, and Peter was shivering violently as he came out of his cover. He jumped up and down, beating his arms against his body, trying to warm himself. He moved down to the river itself, feeling thirsty. But as he looked at the muddy water he couldn’t bring himself to drink it.
Remembering, he dug into his trouser pockets and brought out the food he had scavenged for the horse the previous afternoon—two apple cores and an old dried up carrot. He had felt a little guilty then about having nothing better to offer the animal. Now he was grateful he hadn’t been able to find him. He ate the apple cores, seeds and all, then devoured the carrot, wishing he had four or five more just like it.
The food wasn’t much, but it cheered him greatly. The sky was overcast, but the light was full enough that he could see clearly. Cautiously he made his way to the edge of the trees and scanned the countryside around him. About half a mile away he could see the outline of the cabin. He felt a great surge of relief. He had passed that a short time before he had lost the horse’s tracks. It had looked deserted—one of the dozens that had been abandoned by either Mormon or Missourian in the troubles that now gripped the county.
The sober realities of being alone and out away from Di-Ahman hit him hard now. And what was worse, he knew that Derek and probably other men from Di-Ahman would be out looking for him. That put them at risk too. It was a stupid thing he had done. Surveying the lay of the land, he decided he could find his way back easily enough, but being out in the open all alone made him nervous. He had basically gone upriver, so he could follow the tree line back almost to Di-Ahman and then come out more safely. Moving back into the trees, he began to walk, as swiftly and silently as was possible.
He had gone about half a mile when suddenly he stopped, his ear cocked to one side. Then he dropped into a crouch, looking around wildly. Just off to his left there was a soft moaning sound. It stopped. After a moment, he heard it again. Gingerly now, truly frightened but curious too, Peter straightened. Ready to bolt at the slightest sign of trouble, he made his way forward. And then as he came around a clump of hazel brush, he stopped again, but this time in shock and horror. He was at the edge of a small clearing. On the opposite side of it, tied to a small cottonwood tree, was a man. His boots were gone, and his shirt was down around his waist, torn into several pieces but still tucked in his waistband. But it was the man’s back that Peter gaped at. It was one solid mass of red. Peter stepped forward slowly, at first not comprehending. Then he nearly gagged. The red was lacerated flesh. The man had been whipped severely. Holding one hand to his mouth, Peter moved forward very slowly.
“Brother Sterl
ing?” Peter barely recognized the face. It was bruised and battered. One eye was dark purple and completely swollen shut. His nose had been bleeding but had dried now. His lips were puffy and cut in two places.
The eyes flickered open. There was a momentary flash of fear, and then they glazed over again. Peter knew him, though not well. The Sterlings were converts from Tennessee who had arrived in Di-Ahman just a couple of weeks before. They had started a simple hut about two miles outside of town.
“It’s all right, Brother Sterling. I’ll help you.” Peter grabbed for his pocketknife and began sawing at the ropes. There was another moan. The bands had rubbed the wrists down to raw flesh. More carefully now, Peter finished cutting the ropes through, catching Sterling’s weight as he did so. He lowered him slowly to the ground, face first so as not to touch his back to anything. For a moment Peter just stood there, wanting to vomit, horrified at what his eyes were registering, but knowing that this man was near death and that he had to do something.
Pulling a piece of the man’s shirt loose, Peter ran to the river and thrust it into the water. Muddy water or not, he had to get something to bathe the flesh. With water dripping from the cloth, he darted back to the clearing.
“I’ve got some water, Brother—” He slid to a halt. Two men were standing next to the prone figure. Both carried rifles. One carried a coiled bullwhip in his left hand and was tapping it lightly against his leg. The man nearest Peter had a cold cigar butt clamped between his teeth. He shifted it enough to speak, suddenly grinning wickedly. The rifle came up, muzzle pointing at Peter’s stomach. “Well, well. And what do we have here?”
* * *
“There’s Derek!”
Nathan’s head came up sharply and he turned to look where Rebecca was pointing. He and Matthew were out in front of the sod hut, saddling up again after grabbing an hour’s sleep and a cold breakfast. He peered through the gray light of early morning to where the six riders were coming up the valley at an easy lope. “Are you sure?”
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