by Dean Hughes
“What do you mean?” Liz asked.
“Some of the leaders—William and Wilson Law, Frances Higbee, the Foster brothers—they’re speaking out against the Prophet.”
“I knew William Law was dropped from the First Presidency, but I’ve never known why.”
“It started, from what Hiram tells me, from bad feelings over the Law brothers selling land to immigrants—working for themselves and competing against the Church. The Church needs to sell lots to make its annual payments. But the issue has gone far beyond that now. William Law has told people that he believes Joseph is a fallen prophet—that he’s teaching false doctrines.”
“What doctrines?”
Sarah hesitated, then said, “I don’t know all the details, Liz.” She was sitting at Liz’s kitchen table, and she was holding little Daniel, looking down at him. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she said. “He’s growing fast, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.” But Liz was frightened. It was one thing to be hated by others, outside the Church, but she didn’t want to know that leaders of the Church had turned against Joseph. “What doctrines bother them, Sarah? When I listen to Joseph, I think he makes so much sense, always.”
“I know. But he’s spoken about ‘celestial marriage’ lately. He says that it’s possible for marriage to last into the next life. That’s part of the sealing in the temple that he’s spoken of.”
“But what’s wrong with that? It sounds wonderful to me.”
“I know. But some people—the men I mentioned—don’t believe it.”
“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there, Sarah?”
“I only know what people say. It’s better that I not spread rumors.”
After Sarah was gone, Liz thought of asking Will whether he had heard any talk of plural marriage, which so often came up in accusations against Joseph Smith. She even thought of telling him that she would never accept such a teaching. But she didn’t want to believe Joseph would actually ask the Saints to enter into such a practice, so she didn’t bring it up.
What made Liz feel much better was listening to Joseph at the conference meetings the first week of April. On Saturday morning, April 6—the fourteenth birthday of the Church—Joseph addressed a huge congregation in the east grove, where the wooden stand had now been moved. Joseph stood near the corner of Robinson and Young Streets, and people filled the entire block in front and all around him. Joseph had to shout every word he said. He started by saying that people probably expected him to talk about some of the “petty difficulties” that had come up lately, but he wouldn’t do that. Liz knew that he was talking about the dissenters who had been speaking out against him. “These things,” he said, “are of too trivial a nature to occupy the attention of so large a body. I intend to give you some instruction on the principles of eternal truth, but I will defer it until others have spoken, in consequence of the weakness of my lungs.”
Joseph often preached very long sermons, and his voice had worn out at times. Liz understood why he wished to wait, but she was also relieved that he seemed to see the “difficulties” as minor. And she was especially moved when he said, “I feel closer in communion and in better standing with God than ever before in this life.”
As she heard his voice carry through the air, she felt a rush of confirmation: the Spirit, which she had felt from Joseph so many times before. He was a prophet—she knew that—and she waited throughout the conference for him to speak again.
Fortunately, the weather, which had been quite wet, had cleared nicely this weekend, and the days were beautiful. These meetings were not easy with an infant and a little boy who liked to wander, but Will didn’t stand with the men, as many did. He wore his Sunday suit of clothes and the tall beaver-skin hat he had finally purchased. Liz had teased him that he was paying more attention to styles these days, but he had merely muttered, “A man needs a hat, doesn’t he? And what else is for sale?” But in spite of his serious man-about-town look—and his great interest in the sermons, both morning and afternoon—he still chased after Jacob when he had to.
It was fortunate that Jacob fell asleep by three in the afternoon on Sunday when Joseph rose to speak from the wooden stand where all the Church dignitaries were sitting. Will stood to see, and Liz, seated on a grassy incline, could only get a glimpse of Joseph if she raised her head high, but she could hear him quite well. The wind had come up in the afternoon and was blowing fairly hard, but Joseph’s voice seemed unusually powerful as it penetrated the wind.
As everyone in Nauvoo knew, King Follett, a well-loved elder in Nauvoo, had died in a well-digging accident recently. Joseph announced that in light of that death, and the concern many had about the loss of friends and relatives, he planned to speak on the subject of death. But he said he needed to start from the beginning so that all could understand. The world didn’t understand the true nature of God, and yet, “life eternal” was to know God and understand His nature. Liz followed his thinking as he explained what that meant, and she heard nothing she disagreed with, but then Joseph said something that struck her with force: “We suppose that God was God from eternity. I will refute the idea, or I will do away or take away the veil so you may see. It is the first principle to know that we may converse with Him and that He once was a man like us, and the Father was once on earth like us.”
He then explained that each person could follow a similar path of growth. “And you have got to learn how to make yourselves God, king and priest.”
Liz glanced at Will, who was looking down at her. She could see in his eyes that he was shocked and at the same time inspired, just as she was. Had God become God, and could mortals become gods themselves?
Still, she believed the doctrine instantly, not because the idea seemed logical or even necessarily all that appealing to her, but because she felt a forceful reassurance that Joseph was speaking pure truth.
The Prophet continued to open her mind. Man was eternal, he said, had existed with God forever and would continue forever. God did not create the world from nothing but from material that had always existed. When people died, their spirits separated from their bodies for a time, but those who had passed on were conversant with one another. All mind was susceptible to improvement and could go on and on, ever increasing in capacity.
And then Joseph ended with something that changed Liz’s life: “Will mothers have their children in eternity? Yes, yes, you will have your children. But as it falls, so it will rise. It will never grow. It will be in precise form as it fell in its mother’s arms.”
Little Mary Ann. Liz would have her again. She would see her baby, just as she had been, and then, if Liz understood correctly, she would still have the chance to raise her. Liz gripped little Daniel tightly and knew within herself that she would someday hold little Mary Ann again the same way.
• • •
On the evening after Joseph’s sermon, Will and Liz talked late into the night. Some of the things Joseph had said had opened up new ways of thinking for them. Will felt these days as though he spent too much time working with his hands, not increasing his understanding, but suddenly all eternity was opened to him—with the capacity to learn and comprehend everything. Each act of life seemed to mean more when he thought that it was part of an eternal scheme and necessary labor to get himself through mortality.
Like Liz, Will had felt the power in Joseph’s voice, and he had felt the concepts enter him with a powerful confirmation of the Spirit. He had been troubled lately by the worry he felt for the Saints, the disappointment he experienced with some of them, but this way of thinking was bigger than any of that. If Joseph was bringing doctrines to the Saints that seemed a stretch to believe, maybe that was only because the members were not ready, not that Joseph was teaching falsehood.
Tuesday was the last day of the conference. In the final session, men were called upon to go out across the nation to preach the gospel an
d hold conferences. At the same time, they would be campaigning for Joseph Smith for president of the United States. Church leaders were convinced this was the only way the Saints would ever gain a measure of justice from the wrongs that had been done to them in Missouri. And what was encouraging was that Joseph’s views on government had been distributed through all the major newspapers across the land, and many editors had written favorably about the content of the pamphlet. Will had never imagined that Joseph could win the presidency, but optimism was growing among the leaders that he had a chance.
Will had a hard choice to make. He didn’t know exactly when the missionaries would depart, but he knew he had to get his crops planted first. As hundreds raised their hands to accept the call, Liz whispered to Will, “Raise your hand. You should go.” Will almost did. But he held back, knowing there would still be time to express his willingness. He could plant soon if the weather cleared, and he could leave soon after, and Jesse and Daniel could look after the farms. But what about Liz? Could he leave her home with the two little ones? It was hard to put aside the thought of the Samples brothers and their bundle of black powder.
In the next two weeks Will talked to many of the Saints who had been greatly moved by Joseph’s sermon, and who were excited about his campaign for president. He also learned, however, there were those who had not accepted the image of God that Joseph had preached, and who also thought it was folly to send missionaries out on campaigning missions.
Before the month was out, a dissident group headed by the Laws and Fosters and Higbees had formed. Having challenged Joseph publicly, they had been excommunicated. They had taken a position against the concept of gathering, arguing that it was this practice that led to so much hatred by others. And this new sermon on the nature of God was blasphemous, they said, evidence that Joseph was no longer a prophet. Above all, however, was the accusation that Joseph was teaching plural marriage, and that not only had he entered into plural marriages, but others of the leaders had as well.
The majority of the Church members continued to trust that Joseph Smith had been called by God, but the mood in Nauvoo had changed. Will had believed for such a long time that a Zion spirit would continue to develop to its fulness, that life in Nauvoo would become superior to any form of society anywhere. But this spirit of dissension filled the newspapers in every town in the area, and entered into every conversation. Will felt as though everything he had worked for was about to break apart, and he didn’t want to believe that that could happen.
Chapter 19
Will had hoped that the weather would break and he could plant soon, but storms were coming often, hard thunderstorms that soaked deep into the soil. Twice Will had started to plow, only to see rains come again. And when he and Jesse had finally managed to plow some higher ground and start planting, a deluge of rain had washed out most of the seed corn. Will knew of other men who had agreed to leave on missions but were being delayed the same way. Others were departing in spite of not having planted. Most of the Twelve had set out before the end of May. Some farmers were promising to plant for others as soon as the ground was ready, and that would free up their brothers to serve.
Will continued to feel that the time had not yet come for him to leave. There was simply too much work to leave everything to Jesse and Daniel. Liz was encouraging him to go, but not with the same confidence she had shown when he had left on his previous mission. He knew she was afraid to be alone, and that worried him more than anything.
There was constant talk in Nauvoo about the dissenters and the attention they were receiving in all the newspapers in the region. The Law brothers and their friends were starting a new church that would reject some of the things Joseph had been teaching in recent months. Some of the dissenters had been excommunicated, and they were now preaching among the members and were gathering dozens of converts.
And then, on June 7, 1844, the dissenters began to publish a newspaper. It was called the Nauvoo Expositor, and it promised to set the record straight, to reveal Joseph Smith’s sins and his false teachings. Seven long letters, plus a preamble to introduce the purpose of the newspaper, filled the pages, denouncing Joseph Smith in the most vehement language Will could imagine. Frances Higbee called the Prophet “Joe Smith,” a name always used by enemies but never by the Saints. It was hard to believe that William and Wilson Law, with whom Will had served in the Nauvoo Legion, could become so bitter. Will had heard both bear powerful testimonies of the gospel of Jesus Christ and of Joseph Smith’s role as Prophet of the Restoration. And now they were attacking Joseph as forcefully as they had once praised him.
That spring Thomas Sharp had bought back the Warsaw newspaper, and Will knew that any accusation printed in the Expositor would be printed in the Warsaw Signal and then would go out to newspapers all across the country. Just at the time when missionaries were campaigning for Joseph, this diatribe against him would reverse everything they were trying to do.
Still, the greater danger was at home in Hancock County. Some of the language of the Expositor amounted to a call to arms. One anonymous writer argued that if people arose and enforced the law, such a response should not be looked at as mob action. Will had seen the hatred that had been growing in the county, and he knew it would only take a spark like that to set off a conflagration. He knew now for certain that he couldn’t leave Liz alone.
The Expositor had come out on a Friday, and word was, the city council had been called together to discuss the matter on Saturday. Will hoped the Prophet would speak on Sunday in the grove. He didn’t do that, however, and everyone Will talked to that day was of the same opinion: Serious trouble was about to break loose. The Legion would have to be ready.
Will got up on Monday, unsure what he should do. But no muster had been called, and he had work to do on his farm, the weather finally having turned warm. He knew of nothing better to do than to pray for the Lord to intercede, and then to finish his planting. He and Jesse and Daniel put in a long day, and at the end felt good about their work. “I don’t know what’s a-comin’,” Jesse told Will, “but it’s best to go forward and trust in God, the way I see’t.”
“I feel the same,” Will said. “But if I’m not here in the morning, you’ll know the Legion has been called to guard the city. You might be called into Nauvoo too. I suspect anyone out here away from the city could be in danger.”
“Aw right, then. We’ll follow what the leaders tell us to do.”
“If you’re told to move into town, you and your family can sleep at our place, nice and cozy.”
“Or my new house,” Brother Johns said. “If you squeeze in with us, that would be cozy fer shor.”
They all smiled, but Will felt the nervousness among them. All day Will had watched the road to see whether a militia—or a mob—might be marching that way. He had seen Jesse and Dan looking off in the same direction. They actually had plenty of daylight left to work later, but Will felt a need to get back to his family. He was sure the other men felt the same.
The ride took Will more than an hour. It was after seven o’clock by the time he got home, but he didn’t put his horse away. He tied up Socks to a fence and walked inside. He heard a little tension in Liz’s voice when she said, “I didn’t think you would stay so long today.”
“Good weather’s been hard to come by,” Will said. It irritated him a little that Liz didn’t seem to realize how much work he had to do. Still, he hated to see her so worried. “Have you heard anything?” he asked.
“Nelly came over a little while ago. Warren heard that John Greene was raising a posse, but no one knew exactly what it was for.”
John Greene was the city marshal, so that sounded like something official. Will wondered whether some action was being taken against the dissenters. “But no one came by to muster the Legion, I take it.”
“No. But Warren says that will be next. He thinks you shouldn’t leave town tomorrow.”
&n
bsp; Will wanted to know something official. “I’m going to ride down to General Rich’s house. He can tell me what to expect.”
“Do you have to, Will? I’ve had your supper ready for over an hour, and ...” She didn’t have to say the rest.
“I’ll be back before the sun goes down. It’s better to know something than to sit here and wonder.”
She gave a little nod, but he could see that it was acquiescence, not acceptance. He almost stayed, but he needed to know what was happening, and he thought she would be less worried herself if he could report something accurate.
So Will rode down Parley Street. As he reached the flats he saw men on horseback, all heading south, probably toward the Mansion House. Will decided to follow and see what they were doing. Maybe the call-up had begun.
As Will reached Partridge Street and turned south himself, he rode alongside a man he knew from the Escort Brigade. “What’s happened?” he asked.
John Benton was the man’s name. He was a private, like Will, but a much better horseman and a crack shot. Will had often wished he had the man’s skills. “Ain’t yuh heard? We just tore up that printing place on Mulholland—the one them dissenters was usin’. They won’t be publishin’ any more of their lies.”
“What do you mean, ‘tore up’?”
“We carried the press out and smashed it up. And we scattered the type in all directions. They’ll never print with that machine again.”
“Were you authorized or just—”
“From the top. The city council had meetin’s all day Saturday and agin taday. They said that newspaper was a danger to us all and had to be stopped. You know that’s true if ya’ saw what they wrote in it.”