Captain Jonathan Sperryman wasn’t worried about the wind going much higher. This was not hurricane season in the Atlantic. They were in the middle of a very intense spring storm, as intense as he’d seen in several crossings, but this was a solid ship and the canvas was strong. And with the wind coming almost straight out of the west, they were making good time. They could cut several hours—or more if it continued long enough—off their time. Some of the crew would be sick—were already sick—but they’d come out of that soon enough.
Suddenly he leaned forward, peering intently up the mainmast. It was seven o’clock in the evening, and with the heavy storm clouds, it was fast approaching full dark. But he could see two figures up on the second spar, working together to lash down some loose rigging.
“Who’s that up there with Jiggers?” he shouted.
The first mate didn’t even look up. He had watched the two go up earlier. “Steed,” he called back.
The captain’s eyebrows lifted. “Steed? I thought he was off watch.”
“He is. He was up on deck watching the storm. Saw Jiggers going up. Said he wanted to learn more about fixin’ the riggin’.”
“Watching the storm?” Sperryman said in surprise.
The first mate, whose name was O’Malley, grinned. “Yeah. He was leaning into the wind like a hound sniffing out a fox. Said he loved the feel of the ship doing battle with the sea.”
The captain stood there for a moment, staring up at the two shapes that were nearly lost in the rain and darkness. Fixing the rigging on a spar in the midst of a force-ten wind was not a task for the weak of heart.
“He’s a natural sailor, that one,” the officer said with undisguised admiration. “Fifteen years or not. I wish we had a dozen more like him.”
The captain nodded absently, remembering that he had said something similar to the boy as they were approaching the port of New York. “You want some coffee?”
“Aye, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll bring it out.” Pulling the collar of his oilskin raincoat up around his face, Sperryman turned and started away. Just as he reached the door that led to the galley, he stopped again and turned. For several moments he stood there, looking up at the mainmast; then, with a shrug, he stepped through the door and out of the storm.
Chapter Notes
Joseph and Hyrum and the other prisoners arrived in Quincy on Monday, 22 April, the day following Lucy Mack Smith’s remarkable prophecy. The night after Mother Smith told Edward Partridge her sons would be returning, she had a dream in which she saw them out on the prairie. They were so weak they could hardly stand, and she awoke, grieving that she could not help them. Father Smith tried to calm her and tell her it was just from being overwrought, but she found it impossible to rest; her sons were still before her eyes, and she saw them sleep for a time and then struggle forward on their journey. She rose from her bed and remained awake throughout the rest of the night, determined that she had been shown a vision of her sons. In the morning she again told people that Joseph and Hyrum would arrive that day before the sun set. After their return and the family was gathered together, Mother Smith described to Joseph and Hyrum what she had seen, and they confirmed in every particular that that was exactly what they had been going through that night at the time of the dream. (See Mack Hist., pp. 300–302.)
The depiction of Joseph and Hyrum’s arrival in Quincy is based on the account given by Dimick B. Huntington, who was the first to see the Prophet at the ferry landing (see CHFT, p. 215; Nauvoo, p. 26).
Chapter Five
While Joseph and Hyrum were happily being reunited with their families and friends in Quincy, about two hundred miles west of Quincy a reunion of a different sort was taking place. Just after sunset, Brigham Young and those traveling with him approached Tenny’s Grove, a stand of trees about twenty-five miles southeast of Far West. Immediately they saw the train of wagons scattered among the trees. It was what they had been watching and waiting for for several days—the rescue party from Quincy had found the group that comprised nearly all of the remaining Saints from Far West.
At a run, Nathan started toward the camp, shouting out Matthew’s name. He found him and the Ingalls brothers about ten wagons back, and in moments there was enough back slapping among Derek, Peter, Nathan, and Matthew to send clouds of dust puffing out from trail-weary clothing.
It was a substantial group that camped that night. There were fourteen wagons and about thirty-six families from Far West. They had come southeast to Tenny’s Grove, far enough to be safe from their enemies in Daviess County, then stopped to wait for the rescue party to reach them. Adding Brigham’s party to that group made well over a hundred and fifty people in the camp. The arrival of Brigham and five other members of the Quorum of the Twelve from out of nowhere was a wonderful surprise to the gathering of Saints and a tremendous boost to the spirits of the camp. The euphoria was heightened by Brigham’s announcement that the Twelve, after their brief stop at Far West, would return to Tenny’s Grove and accompany the families to Quincy.
Only five members of the Quorum of the Twelve had left Quincy, but a couple days before, they had come across John E. Page on the trail and Brigham had convinced him to accompany them back to Far West. That made six. But Nathan had expected there would be seven.
“Where’s Heber?” he asked Derek the first chance he got.
Derek looked surprised. “Didn’t you know? He’ll be at Far West, waiting for Brigham to come.”
“What?”
“That’s right. He said the Twelve would be coming, and despite the danger and the threats from the mob, he’ll be at Far West to meet the brethren when they arrive.”
Nathan exhaled slowly. So with Heber there would be seven of the Twelve. More than a majority. It didn’t surprise him. Heber C. Kimball had the same rock-hard determination to do what the Lord asked that Brigham did. But it did sober Nathan greatly. If Brigham hadn’t been absolutely insistent that they come, it would have been just one member of the Twelve standing in the main square of Far West on the twenty-sixth. He put an arm around Matthew. “Come on. Let’s get your families settled for the night, and then we need to talk.”
“You’re absolutely positive that Rebecca is all right?”
Nathan smiled, pleased to see the anxiety in his brother-in-law’s eyes. “Rebecca is fine. The last thing she said to me as I left was to tell you not to worry. This baby is going to wait until his father is home before he makes his debut into the world.”
“His father!” Matthew smiled. “That’s what Derek keeps telling us, that it’s going to be a boy, but I’m betting on a girl.”
“Me too,” Peter said.
“I don’t care what it is, as long as Rebecca and the baby are all right,” said Derek.
They all nodded at that. Death of the mother or the child—or both!—was far too common an occurrence in nineteenth-century America. To have both come through in good condition was always a blessing to be accepted with great humility.
As they fell silent again, Matthew looked around. Brigham Young and the other members of the Twelve were a few yards off, huddled around a fire together in council with members of the Committee on Removal, getting a full report. Brigham had announced that the Twelve would be leaving at first light.
Matthew turned back to Nathan, who was staring into their fire. “You’re not one of the Twelve, Nathan.”
Surprised that Matthew had sensed his thoughts, he nodded. “I know.”
Derek was watching Nathan closely now too. “We could use some help here, looking after these families’ needs.”
“I know that too.” Nathan picked up a buffalo chip from the stack behind him and tossed it onto the fire. The embers flared and sent a spiral of sparks up into the night. “Look,” he said, facing them both. “I don’t know why, but at the meeting where Brigham first discussed this, I felt quite strongly that I should go. That hasn’t changed.”
“Then I think you need to go,” Peter s
aid simply.
Nathan was touched by Peter’s firmness. Peter had been there in Far West. He had faced the lust-filled mobbers and stood between them and the Steed women. He had been shot at, hit with a rifle butt, nearly killed. And still he did not flinch.
Derek finally saw it too. “It will be very dangerous. They’re waiting for you. Be careful.”
Nathan pulled a face. “Thankfully, Brigham isn’t out to prove anything with the mob. He says we’re going in after midnight, getting the business done, and getting out again as quickly as possible. And we’ll all be glad for that.”
He took a deep breath. “There’s something else,” he said slowly. “When we’re done in Far West, I may join you and the others for part of the trip east, but I won’t be going straight back to Quincy with you.”
As he expected, that really caught them by surprise. “What?” Derek blurted. “Why not?” Matthew asked. “How come?” Peter asked.
“I’m going to St. Louis.” Nathan smiled at them in the firelight. Their expressions said it all.
“St. Louis?” Peter echoed.
“To see Joshua and Caroline?” Matthew cried.
“Shhh!” Nathan soothed, afraid they would awaken some of the children sleeping in the wagons and tents around them. “Yes, to see Joshua and Caroline.”
“But why?”
Nathan hesitated for a moment. This had not come quickly. Nor easily. He had thought about it constantly for the past three days. He knew it would be a bitter disappointment to Lydia when he did not return with the others. But after turning it over and over, looking at it from every possible angle, he knew what needed to happen. So he began to speak slowly and with determination. “First of all, I want to know if they have found Will.”
“Oh yes,” Matthew breathed. “We have all wondered about that.”
“But it’s more too. We’re out of Missouri now. Or nearly so. Once this business in Far West is done, it’s over. This part of our lives is over.”
“So?” Matthew broke in, not helped by that answer at all.
“For these past eight months, about all we’ve had time to think about was surviving. Well, now it’s time to consider getting on with our lives.” Nathan paused for a moment before going on. “Do you remember last fall when Lydia and I suggested we have a family council?”
“Yes, I remember,” Matthew said. “We talked about sticking together as a family.”
“More than just sticking together, Matthew,” Nathan said. “We’re talking about working together, planning together, putting our resources together so we can become stronger.”
Derek’s voice was sober. “And you think it’s time for that?”
“I do,” Nathan said firmly. “And when I told Brigham what I was thinking, he agreed. If I make my way down to the Missouri River and catch a riverboat, I can save several days over what it would take if I went back to Quincy and then down to St. Louis.”
Derek leaned forward, staring into the fire. “Do you think Joshua would be willing to come in with us?”
Nathan thought about that. “I didn’t used to, but now, I’m not so sure. If he doesn’t, we can do it ourselves.”
Peter grinned. “But not nearly so easily, right?”
They all laughed at that. “Yes,” Nathan chuckled, “Joshua does have a bit more capital than any of us right now. But that’s not really it. It’s getting him and Caroline up with our family. Having Olivia and Savannah, and Will when they find him. That’s what really matters.” He stood up. “And that’s what I’d like to propose to Joshua.”
Derek’s head bobbed quickly. “Give them our love.”
“I will.” He frowned slightly. “And will you help Lydia understand why I’m doing all this?”
“Of course.”
The night was perfectly still except for the soft hum of the crickets and an occasional hoot from some unseen barn owl out in front of them. They moved carefully, strung out in single file, staying off the hard-packed dirt of the road so their footsteps would be muffled. Their heads moved constantly, eyes searching the moonlit landscape for any movement, ears straining to catch any sounds that might signal danger.
Nathan looked up at the moon. It was nearly full and seemed to be twice as large as normal. It felt like they were walking in broad daylight. He smiled grimly to himself, knowing it was fear that was influencing his perspective. The moon was nearly straight overhead now, which meant it was close to midnight. In a few minutes, if it wasn’t so already, it would be the twenty-sixth of April, the day the Lord had appointed for the Twelve to assemble in Far West and leave for their missions.
Ahead of them, now less than a hundred yards away, Nathan could see the first of the buildings of the city. They were silvery and ghostlike in the moonlight and left one feeling slightly eerie. It would be easy to mount an ambush from those abandoned cabins and buildings. Nathan reached up and let his hand rest on the butt of the pistol stuck in his belt, feeling his heart start to pound a little faster.
As they approached within the last thirty or forty paces of the nearest building—a cabin that had been de-roofed—Brigham stopped, raising one hand high so the others could see it. The others stopped instantly as well. They stood there for several moments, frozen into immobility as they scanned the night. Then Brigham cupped his hands to his mouth and there came the soft whistling call of a meadowlark. It was not a particularly good imitation, and the meadowlark was not a nocturnal bird, but it was a far sight better than calling out in a normal voice. Brigham whistled again. After a moment, there was an answering whistle, and ahead of them a figure appeared beside the cabin and waved.
“Heber?” Brigham whispered.
“Yes, it’s me. Is that you, Brigham?”
The rush of relief that swept over the party was almost as tangible as the evening breeze. Brigham walked forward swiftly, as a single figure stepped out into the road. Nathan and the others followed, feeling a great wave of triumph. They had made it! Their enemies would surely be here at daybreak, determined to prevent the Twelve—should they be daft enough to attempt a return—from fulfilling the Lord’s word. But their enemies were asleep now. And seven of the Twelve were here. By first light, they would be well on their way again.
Brigham and Heber embraced in a back-slapping bear hug. Then Heber broke free and held Brigham at arm’s length. “Brigham! Joseph and Hyrum are free!”
It was as though he had fired off a pistol. Everyone was stunned. “What?” Orson Pratt exclaimed.
“It’s true, I tell you! They were moving them from Daviess County to Boone County to get a new trial. They let them escape. They’ll be in Quincy by now.”
“The Lord be praised!” Brigham breathed.
Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, hardly able to believe it could be true. After all these months, Joseph freed and back among the people. Suddenly, Nathan was envious of his family. By now they would have seen Joseph and Hyrum again.
One of the men in Brigham’s party caught Heber’s eye. “It appears Far West has quite a hold on you, Brother Turley.”
Theodore Turley smiled. “Yes. When Brother Clark and I happened upon Brigham and the rest yesterday, we decided to turn and come back with them. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Heber nodded, turning back to Brigham and the others. “Come,” he said, all business now. “We have everyone waiting.”
George A. Smith jerked back a little. “Everyone?”
Heber grinned. “Of course. There are about sixteen of us. How can you have a conference without Saints?” He looked at Brigham. “I spent most of the day quietly going around to the few who are left. They’re waiting for us now.” He laid a hand on his fellow Apostle’s shoulder. “Some weren’t sure you would come, but I told them Brigham would be here or I personally would carry them out of Far West upon my back.”
“Thank you, Heber,” Brigham said, his voice touched with gratitude. “It is the Lord’s will that we be here, so let’s get on with what has to
be done.”
To Nathan’s amazement, it wasn’t just men who were waiting for them at Father Clark’s house. In spite of the terrible threat, three or four sisters were there, come with their husbands to see Brother Brigham and the other Apostles and to be present for this prophetic conference of the Church. They all crowded into the main room of the Clark home, then carefully covered the windows before lighting a single candle at each end of the table.
Even more surprising than the presence of the women was the presence of Orson Hyde. Hyde had been called as one of the first Apostles in the new dispensation, but in the final days of Far West, he wavered. He had been deeply influenced by Thomas B. Marsh’s apostasy, and had gone to Richmond when Marsh turned against the Prophet. Nathan’s surprise deepened even more when he saw that Brigham was not startled by the presence of his former companion in the Quorum. Heber saw it too and spoke up quickly. “Brigham, I want to speak in behalf of Brother Hyde.”
Brigham stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “I received your letter, Orson,” he said slowly. “But I’d be pleased to hear Heber’s plea in your behalf as well.” He turned to Heber. “Speak on.”
“A short time ago, Brother Hyde returned to Far West,” Heber began. “He came to me penitent and filled with sorrow.”
Orson Hyde was watching Brigham’s face intently, but was content to let Heber tell his story.
“He said that he had been very ill during those weeks when Brother Marsh set his face against Joseph. He was not in his best state of mind. He realizes it was folly for him to follow after Thomas and has come back to ask what he should do in order to make amends for his error.”
Brigham nodded. That had been the thrust of Orson Hyde’s letter that Brigham had received just days before they had left Quincy. “I understand.”
Pillar of Light Page 216