Through Cloud and Sunshine

by Dean Hughes

  “Charles Rich spoke to me today. Major General Rich. He wants me to join a special brigade—the Escort Brigade of Light Infantry. We’re supposed to be bodyguards for Joseph Smith.”

  Liz didn’t like the sound of that. She set Will’s plate on the table and watched his face to see whether he weren’t more thrilled than he was letting on.

  “It’s not as dangerous as it sounds. Or at least I don’t expect it to be. It’s mostly parading near the front of the troops, close to Joseph.”

  “Why did Brother Rich ask you?”

  “I can’t say exactly. Men in the Escort Brigade need to have horses, and he knew I have a horse. Maybe that’s all there was to it.”

  “Or maybe he’s heard the stories about you fighting that man on the riverboat.”

  Liz saw Will smile just a little. “It could be that. I do have a reputation as a man who can hold his own in a fight. But that’s not my worry. Brother Rich says I must have a full uniform, and I will have to drill more often.”

  Liz didn’t like any of this. It was more money for a hat, more sewing to make matching trousers, probably a new pair of boots. But that wasn’t what concerned her most. She was quite sure that Will actually liked the whole thing, no matter what he was saying.

  “Brother Rich ... General Rich ... said he would have me fitted up with the uniform I need—and the weapons. I can pay the money back later on.”

  “What weapons?”

  “I’ll wear a brace of pistols and a sword. It’s to look important, I think. It all makes me laugh, if you want to know the truth.”

  “It makes you want to burst your buttons, Will. You know it does.”

  He grinned. “I don’t have any buttons, Liz. But when I get some, will you sew them on?”

  “Oh, Will, we joined a religion, not an army. Where will all this lead?”

  Will had found himself wondering the same thing, but he remembered what Joseph Smith had said: If they looked formidable enough, no one would come against them.

  • • •

  On Saturday, May 6, 1843, Will paraded with the Nauvoo Legion. Joseph led the way on his black horse, Old Charley. He looked resplendent in his blue coat, white trousers, high boots, and a tall military hat with a plume. A sword was strapped to his side, the scabbard hanging next to his leg. With him at the head of the parade were Emma Smith and half a dozen “leading ladies” of Nauvoo, and after that, Will’s group, the Escort Brigade of Light Infantry. Then came the Legion brass band playing spirited marches.

  General Smith led a force of more than two thousand men, the first cohort made up of mounted troops and the second, foot soldiers—and all in some sort of uniform, whether matching or not. Will knew that the soldiers must have been an impressive spectacle as the men marched out Parley Street to the parade ground beyond Joseph’s farm. But in the past, hundreds of spectators had attended such parades, including dignitaries from Illinois and surrounding states. That had changed now, partly because it was a cold, windy day, but even more because the Legion, which had been greatly admired in years past, was coming to represent the very suspicion people felt toward the Mormons. What did General Smith—President Smith, Mayor Smith—want to do with this army? Men like Thomas Sharp said his plan was to build his own kingdom, to conquer his neighbors, and to rule over them.

  At the parade ground, the cohorts stood in formation as Joseph Smith and his staff of officers—along with visiting dignitaries—rode past to review the troops. The women, in black velvet dresses, and with white feathers on their hats, made a grand sight, but no one more than the stately Emma Smith, who rode a horse beautifully. And yet, Will thought she looked troubled this morning. He wondered what other worries might be on her mind.

  When Joseph spoke to the troops, he shouted against the wind and told them, “When we have petitioned those in power for assistance they have always told us they had no power to help us. Damn such power! When they give me power to protect the innocent I will never say I can do nothing. I will exercise that power for their good. So help me God!” Everyone knew he was referring to his experience with President Martin Van Buren, who had refused to redress the wrongs that the Saints had experienced in Missouri.

  The mock battle turned out to be spirited, and Will enjoyed the day, but afterwards, as he rode his horse back along Parley Street to his home, he was glad Liz hadn’t been there. He wondered if the men had enjoyed the display of power a little too much. He thought Liz might be right to worry about that.

  • • •

  On Sunday, June 25, not three weeks since the Legion parade, Will and Liz were enjoying the good weather and listening to a sermon on the floor of the temple when a rider galloped toward the building. “Nauvoo Legion soldiers,” he shouted in a loud, urgent voice, “meet at the Lodge Room, immediately!”

  The Lodge Room was the upstairs room in the brick store, where various events were held, including Masonic meetings. The cornerstone for a Masonic Hall had been set the day before, but construction was only just getting started.

  Will turned to Liz. “I better hurry down there.” He looked around and saw that men were already filing out before anyone got up to close the meeting.

  “What could it be?” Liz asked.

  Will saw her concern. “You take Jacob home,” he told her. “I’ll go to the meeting and find out what’s happening. I won’t go anywhere without stopping home first.”

  “Do you think it’s—”

  “I don’t know what to think. But don’t worry about me.” Will fell in line with many others, and he walked with the crowds of men down to Main Street and then south to the store. By the time he got there, however, a man was standing in the front doorway, shouting, “It’s too crowded up there. Assemble on the green and form a hollow square. We’ll meet outside.”

  As the men fell into formation, Will heard them speculating about what could be wrong. Everyone knew that Joseph was out of town with Emma and their children, but no one seemed to know where they had gone. By the time Hyrum Smith stepped into the square of men, a huge crowd had gathered outside the formation.

  “Brothers, thank you for coming,” Hyrum shouted, and the rumble of men’s voices silenced immediately. “I need to explain quickly what’s happened, and then we need some volunteers to ride north to protect Joseph.”

  There was a stir in the crowd, and Hyrum raised his hand to quiet everyone. “Joseph and Emma left last week for a visit with Emma’s sister, near a town called Dixon, up north in the state. It’s about two hundred miles from here, maybe more. We found out, after they left, that Governor Ford has given in to pressure from Missouri’s governor and has issued a new writ for Joseph’s arrest and extradition.”

  This brought on some shouts of anger, and one man called out, “That was all settled months ago.”

  “I know,” Hyrum said. “They’re coming at it in a different way this time. It’s not about shooting Boggs. They’ve gone back to the old charge of treason—from the battles in Far West.”

  This incited more shouts and groans, and Hyrum held his hand up again. “I know all that, brothers. I know what you’re saying. But please let me tell you what’s going on now. We need to act quickly.” He paused for a moment and then said, “We don’t have many details yet, but we’ve learned that a Missouri lawman, Joe Reynolds, has partnered with Harmon Wilson, constable from over here in Carthage, and they’ve found Joseph and placed him under arrest. Joseph was able to hire a lawyer, and he’s filed suit against the two lawmen for false arrest and abuse. From what we’ve learned, they roughed him up pretty bad when they took him in.”

  Will felt a low rumble of anger spread through the crowd. He felt the outrage himself.

  “We’re hearing that Reynolds has a gang of scoundrels ready to grab Joseph, and if they get him to Missouri, you know as well as I do that he’ll never come back.”

  Someone yelled, “L
et’s get going, then. I can leave right now.”

  “Wait just a minute. Don’t just ride off unorganized. We’re asking the Escort Brigade to ride toward Monmouth—all who can—along with others who wish to join with us. We think that’s the direction they’re going to take.”

  Hyrum looked around at the men. “All right now. How many are ready to ride out tonight?”

  Many hands went up—hundreds. And of course, Will raised his own.

  “All right. But remember, we’re not going out to fight anyone. We only plan to serve as protectors, to make sure that Joseph is not hauled across the river. Go home and get what you’ll need and report back here in two hours.”

  So Will walked home and gathered up cheese, bread, and dried meat, and he rolled up a blanket. All the while, he kept promising Liz that he was not going off to battle. But when he strapped on his pistols, she asked him, “If it’s not a battle, what are those for?”

  “Just to show authority. Trust me, I’ll have no cause to use them.”

  Will reached down and picked up Jacob, who was eight months old now. He loved to have Will toss him in the air, so Will did that three or four times, and Jacob laughed. Then Will kissed him and handed him to Liz. He was about to leave when Liz said, “Please, let’s pray before you go.”

  “Of course,” Will said. “But you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I am worried, Will. What’s going to happen to us? You know how things got out of hand in Missouri. How can we interfere with constables and not get everyone around here up in arms?”

  “What would you prefer, that we let our Prophet be murdered?” But he had sounded a bit too angry. He stepped to Liz and took her in his arms. “We’re doing what’s right, Liz. I promise you that.”

  But the truth was, Will was worried too—worried about what might happen not only today but in days and weeks to come. Until now, the growing resentment in the area had only taken the form of accusations and threats. This could be the end of all that.

  Will held Liz and prayed, called on the Lord to look after her and Jacob, and to look after Joseph Smith and the men who were going to support him.

  • • •

  The Mormon posse rode until late into the night, the men gradually becoming strung out along the trail. Socks was a sturdy old mare, but Will doubted she could beat him in a footrace. So he kept her on a steady walk and made up for her pace by continuing longer into the night.

  The men slept where they could, wrapped in blankets or strips of canvas, and then they rode as long as their horses could keep going again on Monday. It was Tuesday afternoon when reports circulated back to Will that Joseph had been located—just up the road, a little short of Monmouth.

  By the time Will reached the assemblage, he could hardly see Joseph for all the men on horseback who had gathered around him. A man named Turner peeled back from the crowd and brought his horse alongside Will’s. “When we rode up to the wagon, and Joseph recognized us, he said, ‘Gentlemen, I think I will not go to Missouri this time! These are my boys!’”

  “Who are the other men with Joseph?” Will asked.

  “That’s what’s making us all laugh. Besides sheriffs, it’s mostly lawyers. The two lawmen arrested Joseph, but a sheriff from up in Dixon arrested the men who arrested Joseph. Now they’re all heading to court together. I heard Joseph say that we’re heading to Nauvoo—to appear at our own courts.”

  That night Will slept in a blanket alongside the road again, and the following morning the entourage headed on to the south. Will kept plodding along until he could take a turn at riding next to Joseph’s wagon. He finally had a chance to say, “Hello, President Smith. I’m glad to see you’re doing all right.”

  Joseph laughed. “Nice day for a ride in the country, don’t you think?”

  “Aye. It turns out that way. But I heard they roughed you up some.”

  “That they did. But I’m well enough. I pulled sticks at the camp last night. I pulled up everyone who gave me a try—and I only used one hand. I even took on two men at a time, and they still couldn’t pull me up.”

  “Too bad I was na’ there,” Will said. “I would ha’ showed what a Herefordshire lad can do for hi’self. I might ha’ tossed ye over’n my shoulder, a li’l feller like you.”

  Joseph roared with laughter. “Get a stick,” he bellowed. “Will Lewis wants to pull with me.”

  “Ah, no,” Will said. “It’s not right to stop the progress of this fine party. I’ll do it another day.”

  “Yes, and don’t forget. But I must say, I believe I’ll use both hands when I take you on. I suspect I’ll have to.”

  “Both arms and both legs, I’d say.”

  Joseph roared again.

  “I heard those two sheriffs are not behaving quite so proudly as they did when they put you under arrest.”

  “True enough, but that’s all right. We’ll treat them as friends and see whether they change their attitudes a little.”

  And that was what happened when the posse reached Nauvoo. Word had gone ahead, and the Saints were waiting as the party approached the town. Emma and many of the city leaders had waited at Hyrum’s farm about a mile east of the temple. They greeted Joseph and then proceeded west on Mulholland with Pitt’s Brass Band and the Nauvoo Legion Band leading several carriages full of Church and civic leaders. Emma had brought Old Charley for Joseph to ride, and Joseph seemed to like that. He rode at the front with Emma and waved to all who greeted him, calling out their names and wishing them well, reporting that he was doing fine.

  The men who had ridden out to meet Joseph had decorated their horses’ bridles with wildflowers in celebration, and they were pleased with themselves, it seemed, however little they had actually done. Will understood. He felt proud that the people along the street were able to see him as one of the reliable men who had gone to protect the Prophet. The entire entourage rode past the temple as the crowds grew ever larger, then down the hill and south to Joseph’s house, where a large group sat down to dinner—and at the head of the table were Reynolds and Wilson. Will was not invited to that gathering, but he heard afterwards that the two lawmen seemed nervous the whole time. Still, they ate up and accepted Joseph’s hospitality.

  After dinner, the Nauvoo municipal court judge, on a writ of habeas corpus, reviewed Joseph’s case and set him free. Reynolds and Wilson were also released, and they got out of Nauvoo as quickly as they could.

  That evening Joseph spoke to a large gathering in the grove. He laughed and even bragged a little, recounting his victories in pulling sticks, but he also became serious and made a legal argument that the power of the Nauvoo court came from the state, and the state’s power came from the federal government. He spoke disparagingly of attorneys who didn’t understand that. And then he said: “If our enemies are determined to oppress us and deprive us of our rights and privileges as they have done and if the authorities that be on the earth will not assist us in our rights, not give us that protection which the laws and Constitution of the United States and of this state guarantee unto us: then we will claim them from higher power from heaven and from God Almighty.”

  Joseph then told the Saints not to harm Reynolds or Wilson, and he argued that the law had now been shown to be on the side of justice. The Saints could feel confidence in that. But the words that stuck in Will’s mind when the long speech was over were: “Before I will bear this unhallowed persecution any longer I will spill my blood. There is a time when bearing it longer is a sin. I will not bear it longer. I will spill the last drop of blood I have.”

  The audience gave a loud cry of approval, and Will joined in, but he also worried about the mood that was developing in Nauvoo. One of the complaints about the Saints was that they used the power of habeas corpus in their own municipal court to overrule judgments of courts that should take precedence. It was this “abuse of power,” as some called it, tha
t had caused many legislators to vote for repeal of Nauvoo’s charter. Will feared that the power of the courts and the Constitution that Joseph had praised could at some point be turned against him.

  Will had loved hearing Joseph take such a firm stand, but in the coming days, he was haunted by Joseph’s description of the blood that might be shed. If it came to shedding blood, it might be the Saints who would shed the most. The men of the posse had been very proud of themselves for saving Joseph and Hyrum, but Will wondered what accusations and threats were being spoken—even shouted—in all the other towns in Hancock County.

  Chapter 13

  On the Fourth of July, 1843, Will rode with the Escort Brigade in another Nauvoo Legion parade. The cost of his uniform had set his savings back, but his finances were looking better now. The county had offered him a new road to grade for the same rate of pay he had received the year before. All the talk of getting bids this year had come to nothing. No one seemed to have taken an interest—or perhaps no one owned enough teams of oxen to carry out the work.

  The parade started at the old drilling field just west of Main Street. The troops marched north along Main Street and then up the hill toward the temple and the armory. All along the way the people gathered to wave handkerchiefs and cheer on the troops. Little boys marched alongside the soldiers with sticks over their shoulders, and mothers of little girls had washed their daughters’ white aprons and bonnets and curled their hair as if this were Sunday, not Tuesday.

  A massive crowd gathered in the grove west of the temple after the parade. Three riverboats with guests from St. Louis, Missouri; Quincy, Illinois; and Burlington—in the Iowa Territory—increased the crowd at least an extra thousand. The boats arrived at the lower landing, and Pitt’s Brass Band played lively march tunes as it escorted the passengers to the grove. People brought picnic lunches, listened to speeches, and awaited the major address by Joseph Smith. The day was fair, but the heat, by afternoon, was anything but pleasant, and Liz hadn’t been feeling very well lately. She hoped Joseph wouldn’t speak too long.