The Work and the Glory

Home > Literature > The Work and the Glory > Page 271
The Work and the Glory Page 271

by Gerald N. Lund

“Good for her.” Nathan’s anger was quickly turning into cold fury.

  “No,” Heber corrected him, “not good. Even her vehement protests did not stop this man. When the mayor found that his line of argument was ineffectual, he took another tack. He reminded her of his position as Assistant President to Joseph, then told her that men of high position in the Church, including Joseph himself, had taught him this doctrine.”

  “What?” Nathan exploded.

  “That’s right. He swore that Joseph had given him permission to teach and live it.”

  Nathan was gaping at him.

  Heber’s voice had a ring of cold steel to it now. “He told her that Joseph and other leaders, including Brigham and me, were not only teaching that doctrine but living it as well. Knowledge of this was only being kept secret because it would cause an uproar among the people, and especially create problems with Emma. He swore that he was acting with our direct permission in teaching the doctrine to her.”

  Filled with revulsion and horror, Nathan exploded. “Surely the woman was not fool enough to believe that?”

  For several moments both men were silent. Then, with a heavy heart, Brigham answered. “She did believe him. And she did succumb to his advances.”

  Nathan felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. No wonder Brigham had been thankful when he learned that Rebecca’s interaction with this man had ended as quickly as it did.

  “That was what we were to meet about,” Brigham went on. “All of this has only just come out in the last few days, some of it as recently as this morning. He asked us to investigate some of the reports.”

  “You mean there is more than one woman involved in all this?”

  Brigham nodded. “There are at least five others that we know of.” His jaw tightened. “And not all are unmarried.”

  Nathan straightened, now filled with implacable resolve. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I suggest we split up,” Brigham said. “Nathan, you go up to the temple site. Heber, you go to the city council office. Also check the mayor’s office. Emma’s nephew said those are some of the places Joseph specifically mentioned where he might be going. I’ll check out the site of his new store and at the printing office. If we find him, we come back here. Let’s all try to be back here in an hour either way.”

  They nodded and moved away, each heading off in a different direction.

  When Emma’s nephew opened the door, Nathan removed his hat. “Good evening. Has Brother Joseph returned home yet?”

  “Good evening. No, but I expect him soon. May I help you?” Then recognition crossed the man’s face. “Brother Steed, I think it is?”

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, we met at the store. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Lorenzo Wasson. I’m Emma’s nephew.”

  “Yes.” Nathan looked around. There was no sign of Brigham or Heber. “Have Brother Young or Brother Kimball returned here in the last few minutes?”

  “No. They were here over an hour ago, but I haven’t seen them since.” He opened the door wider. “Look, why don’t you come in and wait for Uncle Joseph. I expect him back any minute now.”

  Hesitating, Nathan considered that. Then he decided that Heber and Brigham would also inquire at the house when they returned. “All right, thank you.”

  As Wasson stepped back, Nathan entered the house. The young man moved through the main parlor and into the sitting room behind it. The house still held some of the day’s heat, and this was the coolest room in it. “Have a seat, Brother Steed. As you probably know, Joseph’s brother Don Carlos is very sick.”

  “Yes,” Nathan responded. Don Carlos was Joseph’s youngest brother, and especially close to Joseph and Emma. They had even named their last baby after him. “How is he doing?”

  “A little better, but still quite serious. Aunt Emma has gone to help Agnes. Julia has the other children at Mother Smith’s, but I’m watching little Don Carlos. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check and make sure he’s still asleep.”

  Nathan nodded absently as Wasson left the room, his thoughts already moving ahead to what this night would bring. He thought of the innocent women duped by the lying tongue of John Bennett. He thought of husbands who had been betrayed and wondered if they knew. And if they did, what did that do to their marital situation? How would he feel if he were to ever find out that Lydia had been unfaithful to him?

  He shook his head, feeling slightly nauseated. Gratefully, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and pulled out of his thoughts. Wasson came back into the room. “Uncle Joseph is coming up the street right now. I saw him from the window.”

  Nathan stood. “Good. Is anyone with him?”

  “Yes. I think it’s the mayor.”

  Nathan visibly started at that. “Brother Bennett?”

  “Yes. I’m pretty certain that’s who it is.”

  That was a totally unexpected turn. “And it’s only the two of them?”

  “Yes.”

  Where was Brigham? Where was Heber? Still puzzled, he turned and started toward the front door. His mind was racing. How did you report on John C. Bennett’s behavior when John C. Bennett was standing there? But he didn’t get a chance to answer that question. As he and Wasson entered the larger parlor that fronted the house, the sound of irate voices came through the open windows. Nathan stopped. It was Joseph’s voice. And there was no mistaking it. He was angry. Very angry!

  Nathan turned to Wasson. He was staring in the direction of the doorway, obviously shocked. That was not surprising, Nathan thought. He was reeling a little himself. He had known Joseph Smith for fourteen years now. Never once in all that time had he heard his voice filled with such fury as he was hearing now. Then Nathan realized that the two figures outside were coming up the walk. With a quick jerk of his head, he moved back into the smaller room. “I think it’s best if we’re not in here,” he said in a low voice.

  Wasson jumped, moving to follow Nathan. Nathan shut the door between the two rooms carefully, seeing the front door open just as he did so.

  “Joseph! Joseph!” John C. Bennett’s voice was close to a sob. “Please! Listen to me.”

  “Listen to what, John? More of your lies? More of your silk tongue?”

  The voices came through the paneling of the door with only the slightest of muffling. Embarrassed to be listening to obviously privileged communication, Nathan gestured toward the hallway. “Can we get outside from here?” he whispered to Wasson.

  “No. Not without them seeing us.”

  “How about upstairs?”

  “Yes, that would be better.”

  Behind them the voices were still hammering at each other. “I’m sorry, Joseph!” Bennett wailed. “I swear to you. I am truly sorry.”

  Nathan led the way, moving quickly up the stairs and into the far bedroom. It helped but it wasn’t enough. The two men below them were speaking loudly enough that their voices carried into every corner of the house. There was no avoiding it. Nathan sat down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to listen, but not able not to.

  “Sorry?” Joseph cried. “John, that’s what you said months ago when I first confronted you about having abandoned your wife and children back in Ohio. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said. ‘I’m sorry I left them. I’m sorry I lied to you, Joseph. Please forgive me, Brother Joseph. Now that I’ve joined the Church, I’ve changed. I’m a different man.’” There was mocking irony in the biting words. “Isn’t that what you said, John? Aren’t those your very words?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And I believed you. When others were saying evil things about you, I believed you, John. I believed you meant what you said. I believed your promises. I supported you for mayor.” Now Joseph’s voice sounded choked. “I asked you to be the Assistant President of the Church! And all that time . . . all that time you were going on with your abominations.”

  There was a muttered sound, but the words were not distinguishable.

  “No, John,”
came the thunderous reply. “I can’t accept that. I won’t accept words. Not anymore. Not after all the lies. Not now that your blackest doings have been exposed to the light.”

  “I’ll do anything, Joseph. Just tell me what you want me to do.” He was sobbing openly now, his voice desperate. “Please!”

  It was as though Joseph hadn’t heard him. “It is shocking beyond belief to think that you have given way to your basest instincts. You have dragged the innocent into submitting to your depravity. You have deprived them of that which is most precious and dear. That alone would be sin enough. But to compound the evil, you did so in the name of the Lord. You did so in the name of the Church. You used my name and the name of other leaders. You used your own position of authority to lie and deceive and seduce.”

  “I know, Joseph. I know. I am an evil person. I’ve tried to stop. I’ve tried to do better. I can’t. These women, they weren’t totally innocent either. They encouraged me with their—”

  “No!” The roar of Joseph’s voice almost made the lamps beside the bed tremble. “How dare you? How dare you shift the blame to them?”

  There was silence. The lion had evidently cowed the wolf. The silence stretched on; then again there was the murmur of Bennett’s voice, too soft to make out the words.

  Joseph’s answer was now heavy with weariness. “I have no choice, John. You leave me no choice.”

  “You can’t expose me, Joseph. I’ll repent. I’ll change. I swear to you! Give me one more chance.” The desperation was driving his voice into a high, shrill whine. “If you expose me, Joseph, my reputation here will be ruined. I won’t be able to practice medicine. How can I face people?”

  Again Joseph’s voice thundered out. Nathan could visualize him, risen to full height, his blue eyes like twin swords. “How can you face God, John Bennett?” he cried. “That is the question that should be foremost in your mind at this moment. You have offended God with the enormity of your sins. And I fear for your everlasting soul.”

  “I know!” came the wailing reply. “I fear I have lost my soul too, Joseph. So please, don’t make me lose everything else. Please don’t expose me.”

  Again there was silence, and Nathan, though he was shamed at having to overhear, nevertheless found himself straining to hear. And then came the words, filled with utter, irrevocable finality. “I cannot let this pass, John,” Joseph said. “You have gone too far this time. You have broken too many promises. I have no choice.”

  There was a strangled cry, the scrape of a chair, followed by the sound of the door slamming. And then the house was silent.

  Emma’s nephew left Nathan sitting on the bed when little Don Carlos started to fuss in the adjoining bedroom. He didn’t come back to where Nathan was. Only when a knock sounded below about ten minutes later and Nathan heard Brigham’s voice did he finally stand and make his way slowly back down the stairs. Both Heber and Brigham had returned. They were standing next to Joseph by the front door, talking quietly. At the sound of Nathan opening the door into the parlor, they all turned in surprise.

  “Nathan?” Joseph said.

  Nathan moved quickly to him. “Joseph, I’m sorry. I was here with Lorenzo, waiting for you, when you and Doctor Bennett came. I was going to come out, then I realized what was happening. We went upstairs, trying to get as far away as possible. We didn’t mean to listen.”

  Joseph slowly nodded. “You heard it all?”

  “Most of it.” Nathan dropped his head, but not before he saw the haunted look in Joseph’s eyes, the lines of weariness around his mouth.

  Joseph was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded his head. “That’s good. I am glad to have a second witness. And Lorenzo?”

  “He heard it too. He’s upstairs with the baby now.”

  Joseph sighed, accepting that. Then he motioned to the chairs behind them. “Can you stay for a while, brethren? Brigham, you need to hear what I’ve just done.”

  “We saw Bennett going toward his house,” Brigham answered. “He looked like a whipped mongrel.”

  Nathan cleared his throat, feeling very awkward now. “I’d best be leaving now. Again, Joseph, I apologize. It was not my intent—”

  “No,” he said, “I understand. It’s all right. I’d like you to stay, Nathan. Brigham was just telling me that you have something to report.”

  “Yes,” Nathan said, “but there is no need now.”

  “There is need,” Joseph said, sinking into a chair and pointing to another. “I need to hear it all, and then to counsel with you. This may take some time. Will your wives be upset if you don’t return by bedtime?”

  “Lydia knew I was coming to see you,” Nathan answered. “She won’t expect me until she sees me walk in the door.”

  “We’re fine too,” Brigham agreed.

  Joseph leaned forward, putting his face in his hands, and began to massage his temples very slowly with his fingertips. “Then, brethren,” he finally said, “let’s see if we can’t sort this whole thing out.”

  It was almost ten o’clock when a shout outside Joseph’s house pulled the four men out of their huddle. Joseph got to his feet, peering out the window.

  “Brother Joseph! Brother Joseph! Come quick!” It was a man’s voice and it was filled with urgency.

  Joseph went to the door and stepped out onto the porch. The other three stood and followed. As they came outside, Nathan saw the man. He was jogging toward them, waving his hands, coming from the direction of the main part of town.

  It was Hosea Stout, clerk for the Nauvoo high council. He came through the gate and into the yard, then pulled up as he saw Joseph and the others. “Brother Joseph!” he gasped. “You must come.”

  “Yes, Hosea. What is it?”

  “It’s John Bennett, Joseph.”

  Joseph straightened perceptibly. “John Bennett? What about him?”

  “He’s tried to kill himself, sir. You’d better come quick. He’s real bad.”

  Lydia sat up in bed, the pillows behind her back, watching Nathan slowly undress. “Does he even know that Rebecca has talked to us?”

  Nathan was unbuttoning his shirt absently. “No. I had no chance to tell Joseph before the confrontation with Bennett. I told him later, but no, Bennett doesn’t know anything about it.”

  “That’s good. I wouldn’t want him to ever come back against Rebecca.”

  Lydia scooted down in the bed, letting the black hair cascade out across the pillow. Now there was genuine sadness on her face. She knew Nathan wasn’t—couldn’t—tell her everything. But what he had told her was enough. She felt a great abhorrence for the man behind all this, and yet at the same time, she saw him as a tragic, broken figure. “So you think he’ll live?”

  “Yes. George Robinson was working furiously to save him. Bennett was fighting like a wild man. It took two of us just to hold him down. But he’s past the crisis now.”

  He paused for a moment in front of the small mirror, passing a hand through his hair, then rubbing his eyes. He moved over and blew out the lamp. In a moment, he was in bed beside her, pulling her over to curl up in his arms.

  “Thank you, Nathan.”

  “For what?”

  “For doing that for Rebecca.”

  “It wasn’t just for Rebecca. That man had to be stopped.” Then he gave a quick shake of his head. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

  “All right.” She went up on one elbow and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Nathan Steed.”

  “And I love you, Lydia McBride.” As she lay down again, he pulled her to him, suddenly fiercely protective of her. “Don’t you ever leave me, Miss McBride.”

  “Leave you?” she said in surprise. “What ever made you say such a thing as that?”

  He kissed her now, not with passion but with sweet tenderness and longing. “Just don’t you ever leave me, all right?”

  Chapter Notes

  Lorenzo Wasson, a nephew of Emma Smith who would become a member of the Church in March 1842,
was present on the day Joseph and Bennett had the blowup. According to his report, Joseph gave Bennett “a tremendous flagellation for practicing iniquity under the base pretence of authority from the heads of the church.” (Times and Seasons 3 [15 August 1842]: 892; see Andrew F. Smith, “The Saintly Scoundrel: The Life and Times of John Cook Bennett” [unpublished ms., Brooklyn, N.Y., 1994], p. 118.)

  It is difficult to pinpoint the exact timing of the events leading up to Bennett’s attempted suicide. Joseph also reported the confrontation and said that soon afterwards Bennett made his suicide attempt (see HC 5:36–37, 42–43). Whether these took place on the same day is not clear. An article in the 23 July 1842 issue of the Wasp, a local paper published in Nauvoo, pinpointed the date of the suicide attempt as 27 July 1841, which has been followed here. There seems to be little doubt that it was Joseph’s threat to expose him publicly that drove Bennett to take poison.

  Chapter 5

  Matthew came running out of the bedroom, pulling up his suspenders over his shoulders as he came. “Coming!” he called.

  Whoever was outside their door either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. The heavy pounding started again. Bam! Bam! Bam!

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  He reached the door and opened it, blinking at the bright morning sunlight.

  “Well, what do you know,” Brigham Young boomed, “there really is life in there after all.”

  “Good morning, Brigham,” Matthew said, trying not to look too surprised.

  Jennifer Jo came out of the bedroom. She was dressed except for her feet, which were bare. Her hands were up, pulling her hair into a braid at the back of her head. “Who is it, Matth— Oh, Brother Brigham. Good morning.” Instantly the smile filled her face, wrinkling her nose and pushing the freckles into one another so as to make them all the more noticeable.

  “Good morning, Jennifer.” Though the family had taken to calling Matthew’s sweetheart Jennifer Jo to distinguish her from Jenny Pottsworth, Brigham never called her anything but Jennifer.

  “Do come in,” Jennifer Jo said. “I’m just going to start breakfast. Will you join us?”

 

‹ Prev