The long-awaited trial of the men responsible for the deaths of Joseph and Hyrum was held last month. There were nine men indicted altogether, but four fled the county. The other five, prominent citizens all, including our longtime nemesis, Thomas Sharp, have sworn they would never be convicted. Swaggering, arrogant, and contemptuous, they openly brag that they were the ones responsible. But they were finally brought to trial, some eleven months after the terrible deed.
What a sham! When the trial opened it became evident what kind of “justice” would be sought. The jury was made up totally of non-Mormons. Witnesses brought forth by the prosecution offered openly contradictory testimony. And get this. The defense attorneys argued that Joseph Smith was killed in response to the popular will of the people, the implication being that no specific person or group could be held responsible. The trial lasted for a week, and at its conclusion, all were acquitted. Surprised?
Actually, this trial was for the assassination of Joseph only. A separate trial for the murder of Hyrum Smith is scheduled for later this month, but we have little hope that it will turn out any differently.
For those who were watching the affairs in western Illinois closely, here was another sign which was easily read. Act as you will against the Mormons. There will be no legal action against you. That is a sobering thought to us. Joshua still talks now and then of trying to leave Nauvoo, but I think he is resigned to the fact that this is our home.
One last thing to share, then I will close. In April, Governor Ford wrote a letter to Brigham Young, who let me copy down some of it. Among other things Ford said: “Your religion is new, and it surprises the people as any great novelty in religion generally does. They cannot rise above the prejudices excited by such novelty. . . . I would suggest a matter in confidence. California now offers a field for the prettiest enterprise that has been undertaken in modern time. . . . Why would it not be a pretty operation for your people to go out there, take possession of and conquer a portion of the vacant country, and establish an independent government of your own subject only to the laws of nations?”
The invitation is put in friendly terms, but the message is clear. In the governor’s eyes, there is no place for us here. That is no surprise, and Brother Brigham continues what Brother Joseph started, and that is a search for a place in the West where we can be safe. Over the past few months, the Twelve have spent a lot of time studying the journals of fur trappers and reports of government exploration expeditions. Of particular importance are the journals of John C. Fremont, an army man who has led several expeditions of exploration in Oregon Territory and California. They have also been reading newspaper articles written by those who have traveled to the West.
Right now both Texas, which as you know is now an independent nation, and Vancouver Island, which is just off the Pacific Coast and is part of Oregon Country, are being seriously considered as potential sites for colonies of Saints. Somewhere near the headwaters of the Colorado has also been talked about. But Brigham sees none of those as suitable for the massive numbers of Saints that would have to be relocated. Perhaps those locations could take smaller colonies, but in his mind they cannot be the center place. So far, one particular place in what they call the Great Basin seems like it might fit our needs. It is called the Valley of the Great Salt Lake because evidently there is a vast inland sea, a salty sea, there.
However, for all the talk and investigation, Brigham is still adamant about not leaving until the temple is completed. This is the Lord’s commandment and we cannot ignore it. He says if we go into the wilderness before we get our endowments, we will fail. Talk now is that we shall dedicate the temple next April conference, a little less than a year from now, and then leave immediately thereafter.
Incidentally, Derek and Matthew and Will—all of whom have labored in England—were delighted to learn that in response to requests from the British Saints as to what they could do for the temple, in addition to sending money, Brigham suggested that perhaps they might wish to furnish a bell that would be hung in the steeple of the temple. We expect they will answer by sending a bell of some size in time for the dedication.
As the summer moves on, work on the temple progresses rapidly. Work on a stone wall—eight feet high and five feet thick at the base—that will surround the temple block has begun. The glaziers are ready to begin installing the glass in the windows. The shingles are nearly all on, the tower raised, and work on the dome will start in a month or so. The joiners are now at work finishing off the inside. It will be a great monument to the faith of our people, who have built it in their poverty, even as we make plans to abandon it.
One bit of good news. Brigham plans to have all the high priests who are out presiding over branches come back to Nauvoo to be endowed. That means we will get to see you both, at least for a time, then. We are most anxious for that day.
Well, enough for now. We all send our love. You are in our prayers. All in all, things are well with us. We hope they are the same for you.
Nathan
One other note: Lydia reminds me to tell you another piece of good news. As you know, a few months ago, Jane Manning left Carl’s employ and went to live in Brigham Young’s household. Carl and Melissa and the children were heartbroken because she has been so wonderful. But with the press of Church affairs, Brigham is often gone from the home and his Mary Ann needed help much more than Carl and Melissa did, though I doubt that the Youngs can pay her as well. Anyway, we just learned that she is going to wed. There is another member of the Church here who is also a free Negro. He has been courting her for some time and finally asked for her hand from Brigham. She accepted. We are very pleased for her. She is a wonderful woman and a good friend to all of us.
Even though it was the first day of September, there was no break in the blistering heat that held Nauvoo in its grip and that had done so for the past several days. The grass, the leaves, the flowers, even the animals in the fields—everything seemed wilted and drained by the high humidity and blazing sun. The last two nights had seen dazzling displays of thunder and lightning, but produced no more than a few drops of rain. Throughout the city, tempers were short, energy was low, activities were held to the barest necessities. Conversations—desultory and limpid—invariably turned to longing speculation as to when the first cooler days of autumn would come.
Caroline Steed and the children had come outside right after breakfast, determined to root out the grass and weeds from the flower gardens that lined the front of the house while the gardens were still in the shade. They worked for an hour and finally quit. She let Savannah and Charles go with their cousins to the store for candy as a reward for their efforts. Now she and Livvy sat in the shade of the front porch. Livvy, fifteen months old now, played with the kitten Joshua had brought home from the stables three days before. She knew there were a dozen things that needed to be done, but the thoughts of going inside the sweltering house were unbearable to her. So she sat here beside her daughter, doing nothing but rocking back and forth and making sure Livvy didn’t smother the kitten with her love.
The sound of a carriage coming up the street from the south brought her head up. Not surprisingly, she recognized it immediately. It was a carriage from the Johnsons’ livery stable, the one that typically went down to the boat dock to see if there were passengers arriving who needed transport to various destinations in the city. The sight did not surprise her, because fifteen minutes before she had heard the three blasts of the whistle of a steamboat announcing that it was arriving at the dock at the south end of Main Street. As the carriage approached, she lifted a hand to wave to Ben Johnson, the young man who always drove the carriage for his father. To her surprise, the carriage pulled up in front of her gate.
“Mornin’, Sister Steed.”
Caroline stopped rocking. “Mornin’, Ben.”
“Brought you a visitor.” He jumped down and opened the carriage door. There was a rustle of skirts, the flash of a bonnet, and then Alice Samuelson stepped
down. Caroline was on her feet and moving down the walk, the surprise evident on her face. “Why, Alice,” she exclaimed, “what a pleasant surprise!”
Alice smiled at her, fumbled in her purse until she found a coin, and paid the boy. He walked around to the back of the carriage, got a valise and a smaller case down, set them inside the gate, then climbed up and drove off with a final wave. Caroline held the gate open wide as Alice picked up the cases and moved toward her. On the porch, Livvy was standing, the kitten forgotten, watching her mother and the new arrival.
Setting the two cases down, Alice gave Caroline a quick hug. “How good to see you again,” Caroline said. Then suddenly she looked a little dismayed. “Oh, I hope your father didn’t go to the freight office. Joshua isn’t there. He and Will have gone upriver to Galena to meet a raft of lumber coming down from the lumber mills. They won’t be back for three or four more days.”
“I know,” Alice responded, blushing slightly. “Will told me in his last letter that he would be gone now.” At Caroline’s look of surprise, she laughed softly. “Actually, I didn’t want Will around this time.”
“Really?” Caroline said cautiously.
“And I’m alone. My father did not come with me.”
There was no helping it. Caroline was genuinely startled. “Alone?”
“Yes.” Avoiding her eyes, Alice turned and looked to Livvy. “Hello, Livvy.”
Livvy didn’t move, but just watched the newcomer with wide, appraising eyes.
“Can’t you say hello to Alice, Livvy?” Caroline said. “You remember Alice. She read stories to you the last time she was here.”
There was a faint smile; then Livvy reached down and scooped up the kitten and held it out to her. The kitten began to mew as it dangled from her hands.
Alice walked forward and took the cat. “Is this your kitten, Livvy?” She began to stroke it gently. “What a pretty kitten. Does it have a name?”
Livvy’s head moved back and forth with great soberness. Caroline laughed. “It’s just ‘Kitty’ for now.”
Alice handed the kitten back and turned to Caroline. “Mrs. Steed, I—”
“Oh, Alice, it’s Caroline. Please!”
“Caroline, I know this seems a little strange, and I wanted to write to you, but—” She bit her lip, her eyes dropping. “But would it be possible for me to stay with you for a few days?”
“But of course.” And then, looking at her more closely, she asked, “Is there anything wrong, Alice?”
Her head came up again. “No, not really.” She laughed briefly, a laugh designed to cover a feeling of awkwardness. “Well, Papa is pretty upset with me for coming up here alone. But no.”
Caroline considered that only for a moment, then reached out and laid a hand on Alice’s arm. Warmly now she said, “I would be pleased to have your company, Alice. Let’s get your things inside. You must be exhausted.”
Alice didn’t move. “Mrs.—Caroline, I . . .”
Caroline saw the concern and worry in the young woman’s eyes. “What?”
“Did you know that Will gave me a Book of Mormon?”
“Yes,” Caroline said slowly. “Have you been reading it?”
“I have. I have read it all now.”
“And?”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to decide about the Church once and for all.” Now it came out it in a rush. “Sometimes I think I know it’s true, then . . . other times I’m not sure. But I want to know. I would like to talk with Jenny and Rebecca and Lydia.” She blushed a little. “I know that I’ve surely asked enough questions of all of you over the past months, but this time I want more than just information about the Church. I want to know how you feel, how you came to know.”
Taken completely by surprise, pleased, delighted, at a loss for words, Caroline found herself merely nodding.
Now Alice was looking away, to the left, to the house that stood next to where they were, on the north side of Joshua and Caroline’s place. “I know that Melissa feels differently about things,” she said cautiously. “Will has told me all of that. I would like to talk to her too.”
Caroline smiled warmly now. “If you are serious about this, Alice, you need to talk to Melissa too. And Carl. They’ll have a different perspective, but they’ll be honest with you.” Her mouth took on a rueful expression. “When Joshua gets back, you won’t have to ask to talk to him. If he finds out you’re thinking about joining the Church, you’ll get an earful.” And then she couldn’t help but ask the next question. “Does your father know all this?”
Alice bit her lip again, her eyes darkening. “I think he suspects. He doesn’t want to think about it. He’ll be furious if I decide to become a Mormon.” She looked away and there was a sudden shininess in her eyes. “Really furious. But he finally relented because he thinks I want to see Will again. At least that’s what he tells himself.”
Caroline put an arm around her. “And do you want to see Will again?” she asked gently.
Alice sighed. “I don’t know. Yes. Of course I do.” Her face twisted in frustration. “And yet I am glad he’s not here. I want to do this on my own. I know how he feels. Now I need to know how the rest of you feel.”
“I understand.”
“Besides,” she said, with a trace of wistfulness, “I don’t know if Will would ever be able to think of me as more than a friend.”
At that, Caroline reached out and picked up Alice’s bags. There was a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, I think there’s an outside chance that Will already thinks of you as more than a friend.”
Alice’s eyes became very big. “Really?”
“Really,” Caroline said. “And I can’t think of anything that would please Joshua and me more than that.”
Alice Samuelson and Jenny Steed walked eastward along Mulholland Street. It was quarter past five in the afternoon and the air was insufferably hot. Both wore bonnets and Alice carried a parasol, but they still moved along slowly. Jenny carried a small picnic basket filled with sandwiches and tomatoes from the garden to take to Matthew. Brigham was pushing the workers at the temple at full speed now, wanting to enclose and finish enough rooms that they could start administering the endowment in a couple of months. As a skilled carpenter, Matthew was pressed into service now three days each week. They would work until dark, so Jenny was taking supper to him.
True to her word, for the past two days Alice had spent most of her time with the women of the Steed family. First it was Rebecca, then Lydia, and finally an afternoon with Melissa. Each night she and Caroline talked late. This morning she had come right after breakfast and spent the day with Jenny and Kathryn. When Jenny mentioned that she had to take food up to Matthew, Alice begged to go. She loved the majestic building that dominated the bluffs on the eastern side of the city. Jenny put the baby down for a nap and left three-year-old Betsy Jo playing dolls with Kathryn.
“What is it?” Alice asked as they moved along. “What is it about this place that I love so much, even more than I love St. Louis?”
Jenny laughed. “Well, not ever having been to St. Louis, I can’t say. Will tells us that St. Louis is a pretty wonderful place too.”
“It is. And we live in one of the prettiest parts of town. But this . . .” She flung out an arm. A little embarrassed by her enthusiasm, she let her arm drop.
After a moment, Alice looked sideways at Jenny. How comfortable she felt with this wonderful girl with the faint dusting of freckles on her face and a touch of Irish lilt in her speech. Alice would turn nineteen in December. A month following that, Jenny would be twenty-four. That made Jenny closest to her in age of all the Steed wives. And Kathryn was only nine months older than Alice. So while she felt perfectly comfortable with Caroline now, as well as Lydia and the others, Alice felt the closest to these two sisters. She loved Jenny’s sweet and gentle disposition, which was laced with a good dose of good-natured but very firm spunk. She felt enormous admiration for Kathryn’s quiet courage in the face of personal trag
edy and for her droll wit that was constantly catching her by surprise.
“Can I ask you a question, Jenny?”
“Of course.”
“How old were you when you joined the Church?”
If Jenny was surprised, she gave no sign. “I was baptized five days after my seventeenth birthday.”
“That’s when your mother and Kathryn were too?”
“Yes. We were all baptized together.”
“Were you . . .” She colored slightly, but went on, her eyes probing Jenny’s. “Did you join the Church just because your mother was joining?”
Jenny shook her head. “No. In fact, I was the first to know the Church was true. Matthew gave me a Book of Mormon and I read it. I convinced Mama and Kathryn to read it.”
“Oh.”
“You’ve been reading the Book of Mormon too, haven’t you?”
“Yes, like you I got mine as a gift, from Will.”
“You’d better watch out, then,” Jenny teased. “Look what happened to me when I accepted Matthew’s gift.”
Now Alice’s color deepened. “I . . .” Her lashes lowered and her cheeks were absolutely flaming now. “I wouldn’t mind it if it did,” she said.
Jenny reached out and slipped an arm around her waist. “And we would be absolutely delighted.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Our whole family adores you. And Joshua—why, he would do the Virginia reel on the top of a team of horses if he thought you and Will would marry.”
Alice smiled happily. “I know. He tells me that straight out. And Caroline has been wonderful too.”
“Just be patient, and things will develop as the Lord wishes.” And then when Alice merely nodded, Jenny went on. “Now that you’ve read the Book of Mormon, how do you feel about it?”
“Well, some parts I don’t understand very well. But I like how often it teaches about Jesus and also how it teaches what he wants us to do.”
“Have you come to the part where Jesus comes down and visits the people?”
“Yes, I’ve finished the book now. I thought that part was lovely.”
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