Pillar of Light

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Pillar of Light Page 323

by Gerald N. Lund


  “Yes, Joseph, I understand.”

  Joseph smiled easily. “Maybe in future architectural books they will amend that silly rule about circular windows and say that it was William Weeks, the Mormon architect, who overturned it.”

  When Nathan arrived back at Steed Row, Lydia was baking bread. He walked into the kitchen, gave her a quick kiss, won himself a frown by pinching a healthy wad of dough from the kneading board, then sat down.

  “How was the summary?” she asked.

  “Joseph seemed pleased.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

  “What’s that?”

  “Living next door to a prophet of God.”

  She gave him a strange look.

  “Well, I don’t mean literally next door to him. But close by.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “We see him every day. We go to his store and buy things from him. He wears an apron and dusts the shelves. We go to his home and sit around the table with him and eat bread and cheese.” He smiled, remembering snow fights and ice sliding. “He plays with our children.”

  She wasn’t yet sure exactly where all this was leading, but she nodded anyway.

  “And yet he is still the Prophet. He gets revelation. He teaches us the doctrines of God. He tells us how to extend the gospel to those who have died.” He looked up at her now, his eyes contemplative and filled with wonder. “He sees circular windows on a building that hasn’t even been built as yet.”

  “What? What do you mean, circular windows?”

  He chuckled softly. “I’ll tell you about that tonight, but for now I’d better go find Father. He probably thinks he’s running this business all by himself anymore.” He stopped again. “But it’s easy to forget he’s the Prophet when he’s also your next-door neighbor, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Notes

  Joseph’s words about being a rough stone and becoming a polished shaft come from his own description of himself (see HC 5:401, 423). The statements were actually made in May and June of 1843, about six months before the time depicted here.

  The position paper outlining Joseph Smith’s platform as a presidential candidate was dictated to W. W. Phelps by Joseph and then evidently polished by Phelps, John M. Bernhisel, and others under his jurisdiction. There is no known summary paper such as Nathan was writing, but what is done here by Nathan encapsulates the major points of Joseph’s candidacy. (See Restoration, pp. 269–70.) On 7 February 1844, the full draft was read to the Twelve, and the following day W. W. Phelps read it publicly at a political meeting in the assembly room of the Red Brick Store (see HC 6:197–211).

  The story about the circular windows is recorded in Joseph’s history (see HC 6:196–97; see also Richard O. Cowan, “The Pivotal Nauvoo Temple,” in Regional Studies in Latter-day Saint Church History: Illinois [Provo, Utah: Department of Church History and Doctrine, Brigham Young University, 1995], pp. 116–20). The revelation referred to by Joseph is now D&C 124:42.

  With the exception of John David Appleby, who is fictional, the names of all the conspirators are real, although the situation involving Olivia is of course the author’s creation. It should also be noted here that William Marks (mentioned in earlier chapters), who was president of the Nauvoo Stake, was upset by Joseph’s teachings but did not join the conspiracy. After the Martyrdom, he did take the side of Sidney Rigdon in the succession question and eventually was dropped from the stake presidency and the Church. (See Andrew Jenson, comp., Latter-day Saint Biographical Encyclopedia, 4 vols. [1901–36; reprint, Salt Lake City: Western Epics, 1971], 1:283–84.)

  Chapter 36

  Joshua and Will Steed returned to Nauvoo from Wisconsin late in the evening of the twentieth of February. They came overland by stage and rented carriage. The weather had turned quite warm for this early in the year, and even the ice along the riverbanks was about gone now. Farther north, the ice on the river was breaking up and there were great chunks of it in the main current. It would be a few more weeks before the riverboat traffic would open up and start plying the great inland highway again, and so overland routes had been their only choice.

  Caroline sent word to the family the next morning that her men were back home and that there would be a family dinner that evening to celebrate their return. As usual, immediately the women put their heads together to decide who would bring what, and then spent the better part of the day preparing the food to feed such a group.

  They met at six and ate heartily. Then, protesting that it was too warm for coats but losing the battle with their parents, the children went outside to play. Over warm blackberry pie and raspberry ice cream whipped up by Derek and Peter earlier in the afternoon, the adults settled in to visit.

  The news from Wisconsin was good. Jean Claude Dubuque, now in full partnership with Joshua, was proving to be an able businessman. There had been a good harvest of trees through the winter, and the sawmill now had great stacks of sawn lumber ready to be made into rafts once spring broke. Joshua announced that the Frenchman felt confident enough in his crews that he could bring the rafts down without Joshua’s going back up again. At that, Caroline stood and applauded enthusiastically.

  Will won a clear frown from his father when he announced that Jean Claude had been traveling to the Mormon lumber camps each Sunday for worship services and that he would be baptized when he came down with the rafts in May. After that, the conversation turned to what had been happening in Nauvoo during their absence. Inevitably, the question of Joseph’s candidacy was raised. Joshua, who had seen the newspaper articles about it in Peoria, was openly scornful. “Talk about naivete.”

  “Joshua!” Caroline cried.

  He jerked around. “What? Because I’m in the minority here I can’t say what I’m feeling?”

  She shook her head, dismayed at the emotion she saw in his face. “You can say what you please, but you don’t have to be unpleasant about it.”

  “It’s unpleasant only because it is the truth,” he retorted. Then turning back to Nathan, he went on. “I know that here in Nauvoo there was probably a great celebration. Joseph Smith for president! Hip hip hooray! At last a candidate we can believe in. But out there”—he threw out his hand to include all of the world to their east—“don’t you realize how people feel about the Mormons? Especially after Bennett spent a year going around the country telling all? Most people are not sure whether you are a joke or a menace. And then to hear that your prophet is running for president?” His laugh was harsh, mocking. “Let’s just say that the reception out there wasn’t quite as warm as here in Nauvoo.”

  Caroline was looking at the floor now, her face flaming. Will was watching his father, his mouth tight. “Pa’s been grumping about this ever since Peoria,” he said.

  His father’s nostrils flared and he swung on Will. “That’s right. Will thinks it’s grumping only because he can’t face reality either. Tell you what. You take a snowball and toss it into one of Carl’s brick kilns. That’s how much chance your Joseph Smith has of winning this election.”

  Melissa spoke up now. “Do you think it’s wrong of Joseph to try and win?” she asked.

  “I think Joseph has his head in the clouds,” Joshua snapped. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Carl jumped in to support his wife. “Maybe they would rather have a man they can vote for in good conscience, even if there’s no chance he will win.”

  “That’s it, exactly,” Nathan said, pleased that Carl had seen it. “Who else would you have us vote for? John C. Calhoun? Martin Van Buren, whose only answer to our cry for help was, ‘Your cause is just, but I can do nothing for you’?”

  Grudgingly, Joshua backed down a little. “All right, I’ll grant you that. I’m just saying that you are being very naive if you think Joseph has one chance in ten thousand of winning.”

  Benjamin decided to change the subject. “Did you know that in Warsaw, Thomas Sharp has called for a day of
fasting and prayer to remove Joseph Smith from power?”

  That brought everyone’s head around.

  “That’s right,” he said. “March ninth. And I understand that in Carthage on that same day they’re calling for a ‘wolf hunt.’ ”

  “A wolf hunt?” Joshua asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well,” Benjamin said, “on the surface, it’s just that, though no one has seen a wolf in these parts for many years. But talk to anyone in Carthage and they know exactly what it means. It’s nothing but a thin excuse to go out and terrorize the Mormons.”

  Joshua looked dubious.

  “They already burned some haystacks a month or so ago,” Benjamin said. “A home of one of the members in the outlying settlements was burned to the ground under very suspicious circumstances. That’s why we feel that we have to have a candidate we can vote for with our hearts.”

  “Either that or leave the country,” Matthew said.

  Nathan gave him a quick look, then glanced at Derek. Before dinner they had wondered how to break into this. Now Matthew had just given them the perfect opening. Nathan took a breath. “Joseph has asked the Twelve to organize a party to go to California and Oregon.”

  He might as well have dropped a buffalo through the roof. There were exclamations of shock and astonishment. Even Joshua was staring at him.

  “California!” Lydia exclaimed. “But why?”

  “To find us a place where we can be safe.” Nathan shot a look at Joshua. “Where we’re not dependent on the United States to protect us. Where we can build a temple and worship in peace.” He took a breath, looking at Lydia now. “Just yesterday, Joseph charged the Twelve to start putting together a delegation. I may be asked to go.”

  “No!” she cried. “Oh, Nathan, when?”

  Derek looked at Rebecca. “Brigham has talked to Matthew and me as well.”

  “When would you go?” Jenny cried in dismay.

  “We don’t know,” Nathan answered. “It will take a while to organize something. Maybe later in the summer after the elections are over.”

  “Is he serious?” Joshua said, sobered now out of his irritation.

  “Serious enough to tell the Twelve to start working on it.” Nathan took a breath, staring at Joshua now with unwavering eyes. “I understand your disdain for our feeble efforts to find a solution to our problems, Joshua. And you’re probably right. Joseph will very likely never be the president of the United States. But at least he’s looking for solutions. And that means enough to me that I’ll vote for him whether I think he can win or not. And if that doesn’t work . . .” He took a breath. “Then I’ll follow him to California or Oregon if he asks me to.”

  Doctor Robert Foster was waiting on the front step of the Steed and Sons Freight and Portage Company when Joshua rounded the corner and started up the street. At the sight of him, Joshua’s mouth tightened. Did these fools never give up?

  “Good morning, Steed,” Foster said with little attempt at cordiality.

  “If this is more of what we talked about before I left, I’m a very busy man today, Foster.”

  Foster’s mouth curled slightly at the corners, and there was a serpentine look in his eye. “Give me five minutes and I think you’ll agree that you’re not that busy.”

  When the front door slammed, Caroline jumped, nearly dropping the frying pan. She turned toward the door as Joshua came clomping down the hall and entered the kitchen. “Joshua?” she said in surprise. “Did you forget something . . . ?” Her voice trailed off when she saw his face. “Joshua, what’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Olivia?”

  “She’s upstairs helping Charles get dressed. Why, what’s the matter?”

  He just glared at her. “And Will?”

  “You told him to go out to the Peterson place and check on that load of corn coming in from Keokuk.”

  “So he left?”

  “Yes, about a quarter of an hour ago.”

  There was one curt nod. “You get Olivia and both of you come out to the barn.”

  “The barn? But—”

  “Savannah can watch Charles for that long. I don’t want the young ones hearing what I’ve got to say. Now, just do it!” And with that, he spun around and stomped out again.

  As they left the house and started across the yard, Olivia looked at her mother, fear openly written on her face. “Do you think he knows about my going to see Joseph?” she asked.

  “I don’t know how he could,” Caroline answered. She was pale. Her stomach was one huge, twisted knot. The fury in Joshua’s eyes was not for some slight infraction by one of the children. And why did he want Olivia too? “Have you told anyone about that, Olivia?”

  “No, Mama. Not anyone. I promised Joseph.”

  “Not even Amy?”

  “No, Mama. I mean, I didn’t tell Amy about what Joseph and I discussed, but she knows I went to see him, because she’s the one who first gave me the idea.”

  This was news to Caroline. “Amy told you to go to Joseph? Why would she tell you—”

  Olivia had suddenly stopped. She looked stricken. “Because I told her about that night I heard you and Grandma and Mary Smith talking about plural marriage.” Olivia had confessed to Caroline about having eavesdropped that night. But—whether it was out of forgetfulness, negligence, or guilt, she wasn’t sure—she had not told her mother that she talked to Amy about it.

  Caroline’s mouth opened and she almost wanted to gag. “You told Amy about that?” she half whispered. Just yesterday, Benjamin had taken Caroline aside and whispered a word of warning to her about Olivia’s friendship with Amy Appleby. John Appleby was known to be friendly with Foster and Soby and the Laws, he said. Olivia needed to be careful about what she said to her. Caroline had been planning on talking with her about it this very morning.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Olivia said in a low voice that was now trembling. “She promised me that she hasn’t told anyone.” Her eyes said that she no longer believed Amy Appleby’s promises.

  Caroline thought about that, trying to assess the damage. At least Amy didn’t know what had transpired in Joseph’s office. Caroline looked up as a movement caught her eye. Joshua had come to the door of the barn and was watching them with a baleful stare. She took her daughter’s hand and raised her head high. “I’m here, Livvy. It will be all right.”

  Joshua stepped back inside as they reached him. He waited until they were in, then shut the door behind them. When he turned to face them, his lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, and his eyes were like glittering pieces of coal. “All right,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “I’m going to ask some questions and I want no more lies.”

  Caroline’s chin lifted slightly and she met his gaze with calmness. “No more lies? Does that mean you think I have been lying to you, Joshua?”

  “Don’t be cute with me, Caroline!” he snapped.

  “The last thing in the world I have tried to do is be cute, Joshua.”

  He thrust his jaw out, addressing Caroline now. “Is it true that while I was gone you used our home as a meeting place to try and convert Melissa to the idea of plural marriage?”

  She had expected no less. “One night Mary Smith visited with me, Lydia, your mother, Rebecca, and Melissa. And yes, we did meet here. You and Will were gone, it was quiet, so—”

  He threw up his hands and whirled away. “And knowing how I feel about this whole damnable doctrine, it never occurred to you that I would object to that?”

  “I . . . no, Joshua, I guess it didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he raged, swinging on her again. “Sorry? I caved in about your being baptized, Caroline. I didn’t stand in Will’s way. I agreed to let Olivia join the Church with you, even though I felt that she had been duped into believing all this nonsense. And this is how you repay me? You bring Mary Smith right into my home to do this?”

  “Somewhere I had it in my mind,” Caroline said evenly, “that this was my home too.
But I am sorry, Joshua.” Then there was a steeliness in her own voice. “Would it have made any difference to you if it had taken place at your mother’s house? or Lydia’s?”

  He exploded at that. “If it had taken place at my mother’s house,” he yelled, “at least my daughter wouldn’t have come back and overheard the whole thing.”

  Now Caroline’s head dropped. On that he had her. It had been a foolish thing to do and Olivia had been badly shaken because of it. “You’re right, Joshua. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  He just snorted in disgust. Then he swung on Olivia. She shrank back a little, her eyes wide with dread. “Now, you answer me, Livvy, and you answer me honestly. Is it true that you heard everything Mary Smith was saying about plural marriage?”

  “Yes, Papa, all but the very first part.”

  “And is it true that you went to see Joseph Smith to ask him about it?”

  That stunned her.

  “Did you?” he said, his voice snapping like the crack of a whip.

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “And did you ask”—the sarcasm was heavy now—“Brother Joseph about plural marriage?”

  She could no longer bear the heat of his eyes. She stared down at the floor. There was a numb nod.

  “And what did Joseph tell you, Olivia?”

  There was a quick, frightened look at her mother. “I promised I wouldn’t tell,” she said.

  He jerked forward, mouth twisting. “What did you say?” he asked.

  “I swore I would not speak to anyone about it.”

  “Not even to your mother?” he shot right back.

  “No, I— Joseph said I could tell Mama.”

  “But not me, right?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Look at me!” he commanded. “You look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  Olivia’s head came up. Her eyes were shining, her lower lip visibly trembling.

  “Did Joseph tell you not to tell me?”

 

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