The Work and the Glory

Home > Literature > The Work and the Glory > Page 333
The Work and the Glory Page 333

by Gerald N. Lund


  He stopped for a moment, his throat constricting. “I dare not,” he finally managed. “The officers may question them. Kiss them for me, especially our little Joseph.”

  “I will.”

  He finished, then straightened, looking around the room. Then with a low cry of pain, he took Lydia in his arms and pulled her to him. “I shall miss you, my darling.”

  “And I you,” she said fiercely, gripping him tightly.

  He kissed her. “Joseph has said that if he can get away clear, there will be no danger here. Not one hair shall be harmed.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she managed, pushing down the anxiety that was like a great knot in her stomach.

  He kissed her again. “We shall find us another home, where we can be safe once and for all.”

  She nodded, reaching up to wipe her cheeks. “You must go, Nathan.” She kissed him one last time, hard and with longing. “Be careful.”

  “I will. And may God watch over all of you while I am gone.”

  To Nathan’s surprise, Joshua was waiting for him at the front gate. Nathan instantly started shaking his head. “Joshua, you can’t. Caroline needs you.”

  “I know that,” he said. “I’m not trying to go with you. But knowing how easily my little brother gets lost, I thought I would just row you across the river.”

  Nathan felt a quick lump in his throat and clasped Joshua’s hand. “Thank you. Will you give Caroline and Will my love? And Mama and Papa and all the rest? I wish I could tell them all good-bye.”

  “I will,” Joshua said gruffly. “Now, let’s get going before you get me bawling like a baby here.”

  Dawn was just coming when Nathan raised his hand and pointed about two hundred yards upriver from where they were. “There!” he said. “There’s the landing.” He held his oar out of the water for a few moments while Joshua leaned into his, turning the nose of the rowboat into the current. Then together they started rowing hard, moving the craft toward the landing.

  When they were still about fifty yards out, they saw figures moving around on the bank. Nathan peered more closely. “I think it’s Joseph,” he said in surprise.

  Just then Porter Rockwell’s voice came floating across the water. “Nathan, is that you?”

  “Yes!” He waved an arm, then went back to rowing. In another couple of minutes they nosed the rowboat in beside the one already pulled up on the bank. Joshua stood, then hopped nimbly out. He pulled the boat in further and Nathan followed him. Nathan noticed the other boat had about two or three inches of water in it. “Looks like you had a wet ride last night.”

  Rockwell shook hands with them. “Just about didn’t make it. Joseph and Hyrum had to use their boots to bail water all the way across.” He pulled a face. “Some favor, lending a man a leaky rowboat.”

  “We thought you’d be long gone by now,” Joshua said.

  Joseph came down. He was in stocking feet and walked gingerly. “We got a late start,” he said, in answer to Joshua’s comment. “By the time we said our farewells to our family, it was about two o’clock this morning. Then with the boat nearly sinking on us, we’ve only been here a few minutes.”

  Joshua looked at Nathan. “I’d better leave again. I promised Caroline I’d come right back.”

  “How is she?” Joseph asked.

  “Remarkably good,” Joshua answered.

  Hyrum and Willard Richards had come over to join them now too. “Your wife is a very lucky woman,” Elder Richards said.

  “Yes.” Joshua turned to Nathan and stuck out his hand. “Good luck, little brother. Be careful.” Then to the others, “Keep your powder dry.” He chuckled, looking down at their stocking feet. “Don’t put it in your boots.”

  “Say,” Joseph said, “can Porter go back across with you? He’s going to get us some horses and come back after dark tonight. Then we’ll be off in the morning.”

  “Sure.”

  Rockwell grinned. “You mean I don’t get to have another adventure going back across?”

  Joseph stepped forward and laid a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “Thank you, Joshua. Tell Caroline she is in my prayers daily.”

  “I shall, Joseph. And when you find yourself a new home, will you let us know?”

  There was a momentary start among the small group of men.

  “Does that mean that you’d come with us?” Nathan blurted.

  There was a sheepish grin. “Well, I think I’ve sold my freight business for the second time. I know it’s not final yet, but I can’t simply back out on them. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

  “I would like that, Joshua,” Joseph said. “I would like that very much.”

  The original plan had been to stay at the home of John Killien, a man whom Joseph trusted deeply. But Killien wasn’t home, and so they went on to the Jordan home, where Sister Jordan prepared a full breakfast for her unexpected but welcome guests. About nine o’clock, John Bernhisel and Reynolds Cahoon came to the house. Cahoon was highly exercised and reported that early that morning the posse promised by Governor Ford had arrived in Nauvoo to provide escort for Joseph and the other prisoners. When they learned that Joseph and Hyrum were gone, the captain was furious. Sending the others back to Carthage for reinforcements, he vowed that they would guard the city until Joseph surrendered, even if it took three years.

  Joseph was neither surprised nor upset by that news and told them to go back and stay calm. Clearly unhappy, Cahoon finally relented, grumbling all the way back to the boat. Then Joseph and his companions set to work. There would be the five of them—Joseph and Hyrum, Rockwell (once he got back), Willard Richards, and Nathan. That took considerable supplies. Joseph had brought some over in their boat; Joshua and Nathan had done the same. The Jordans and Willard Richards went from house to house among the Saints in Montrose to get more. By noon they had flour, salt, sugar, some ammunition, blankets, dried fruit, and a dozen other items to divide between them.

  They were in the midst of debating how best to do that when Brother Jordan appeared at the doorway. “Brother Cahoon is back. And Porter Rockwell.”

  Joseph stood. “Porter? He wasn’t supposed to come until after dark.”

  Actually there were four men waiting for them outside. In addition to Cahoon and Rockwell, Lorenzo Wasson, Emma’s nephew, had come. The fourth man was Hiram Kimball. Though Sarah Granger Kimball was a wonderful, faithful sister, her husband had joined the Church only about a year ago. A wealthy businessman, Hiram owned one of Nauvoo’s most prosperous stores and several pieces of property. He had been known to be sharply critical at times. Like many wealthy men, he assumed that his wealth gave him privileges with others.

  Before Joseph could say anything to Rockwell, Porter withdrew a letter from his shirt. “Emma asked me to give this to you,” he said.

  Joseph opened it and read it quickly. His eyes darkened as he did so, but he folded it again and put it inside his shirt without comment. Cahoon, watching him closely, spoke first. “Joseph, Emma asked us to come and persuade you to come back. She’s terribly frightened.”

  “Come back!” Nathan cried. “Are you joking?”

  Cahoon glared at Nathan for a moment, but then spoke to Joseph again. “It will be all right,” he said earnestly. “The governor has given his pledge and the pledge of the state that you shall be protected and that you will get a fair trial.”

  “In Carthage?” Willard Richards sniffed. “You must be mad.”

  “Look, Uncle Joseph,” Lorenzo Wasson jumped in, “Aunt Emma is badly frightened. She had to do this once before, remember? You were in Liberty Jail. She had to leave Missouri completely on her own.”

  That was somewhat of an exaggeration, since Stephen Markham and others had helped her leave Missouri, but there was no question but what Emma had seen this kind of terrible experience before. And she was almost five months with child again. If Joseph went west, he would likely not be back when the baby was born. After her last stillborn experience, that would surely be terrifying to
her as well.

  And yet, even with all that, Nathan had to say what he felt. “Lorenzo, I understand your concern, but you haven’t been to Carthage and seen what’s going on down there. The governor is listening to the mob. He’s not going to give Joseph any protection.”

  Hiram Kimball waved that off. “That’s just the kind of talk meant to frighten people. The governor sent a posse to give you escort. He’s given his word.” Now he leaned forward, his jaw set, his chin thrust out. “This is no time for cowardice, Joseph. If you don’t come back, they’ll destroy Nauvoo. We’ll lose our homes, our—”

  “Cowardice?” Hyrum exclaimed. “You think we are leaving because we are afraid?”

  “All I know is that Emma is begging you to come back,” Wasson said.

  There was a momentary pause, and then Cahoon spoke. “There’s an old fable. When the wolves come, the shepherd flees and leaves the flock to be devoured.”

  Joseph looked as though he had been slapped. He just stared at them, his eyes suddenly haunted. “Is that what you think?” he whispered.

  No one answered, but it was clear what they thought.

  Joseph’s shoulders slumped. His voice was hollow and drawn. “If my life is of no value to my friends,” he said to no one in particular, “then it is of none to myself.”

  “No, Joseph!” Nathan exclaimed.

  But Joseph didn’t even turn to him. In the silence Cahoon, Wasson, and Kimball looked at the others with stubborn defiance. Joseph looked like a beaten man now. Hyrum was pale and staring at the three men in great dismay. Joseph finally turned to Rockwell. “What shall I do, Porter?”

  Rockwell shook his head. “Joseph, you are the oldest and know best. But I’ll say this—as you make your bed, I will lie with you.”

  Joseph then turned to Hyrum. “Brother Hyrum, you are the oldest. What shall we do?”

  For a long moment the two brothers gazed at each other; then Hyrum sagged, the heart gone out of him. Cowards? It was a

  bitter lance indeed. “Let us go back and give ourselves up and see the thing out,” he said woodenly.

  “No,” Elder Richards cried.

  But Joseph waved him to silence. His eyes never left Hyrum’s face. “If you go back I will go with you, but we shall be butchered.”

  “No, no!” Hyrum said, more resolute now. “Let us go back and put our trust in God and we shall not be harmed. The Lord is in it. If we live or have to die, we will be reconciled to our fate.”

  Joseph turned away, looking out toward the west. His face was drawn, his eyes shadowed with pain. Finally he turned back around and spoke to Cahoon. “Tell Captain Davis to have a boat here at half past five. We shall cross back over and surrender ourselves then.”

  Before crossing back to the eastern side of the river, Joseph and Hyrum drafted a letter of response to Governor Ford. Immediately upon reaching Nauvoo, Joseph dispatched Theodore Turley and Jedediah M. Grant to Carthage to deliver it. They arrived in the county seat about nine p.m. and immediately took the letter to the governor.

  Pleased to hear that Joseph was willing to surrender, Ford promised to send the posse back again as an escort. But the enemies of the Church had gotten wind of the new developments. Wilson Law and Joseph Jackson strode in and launched into a diatribe against the Prophet and the Mormons. Everything was lies, they shouted. Other prisoners didn’t get a private escort. Why should Joe Smith be given privileges that no other prisoner would receive?

  Ford caved in. Rescinding his previous decision, he told Turley and Grant to return to Nauvoo immediately and tell Joseph Smith that he was expected to present himself in Carthage by ten a.m. the following day—without escort—or the city of Nauvoo would be destroyed with every man, woman, and child in it.

  The disheartened men finally arrived back home at four a.m. the next day and went straight to Joseph with their report. Not really expecting much better than that, Joseph sent runners throughout the city. At half past six, Joseph and Hyrum and all other members of the city council would depart Nauvoo. They would ride to Carthage and there surrender to the authorities as requested.

  “Papa!”

  “Shhh!” Nathan said, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others.”

  Young Joshua dropped his voice. “Why do you have to go, Papa? You aren’t named in the warrant.”

  Lydia shushed him now. “Your father is going to help Grandpa Steed and to be with Brother Joseph.” She was making a valiant effort to keep her voice even and the fear from her eyes. But when she turned to Nathan he could see it clearly.

  He walked to young Joshua and took him by the shoulders. “You help Mama. You watch the children when she has to be over with Aunt Caroline and baby Livvy.”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Then he went to Lydia and took her gently in his arms. She buried her head against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. “It’s going to be all right,” he said softly. “At least I’m not going west. We should only be a few days.”

  She looked up, her eyes glistening. “I know,” she said. “Just be careful, Nathan.”

  “I could go, Pa. One of us needs to be with Joseph. We owe him that.”

  Joshua looked away, the pain tearing through him. “Will, we are needed here. Both of us. Joseph will understand.”

  “But Grandpa Steed, Pa . . .”

  “Nathan is going to be with Grandpa. Our place is here.”

  Will’s head dropped in resignation. “Yes, Pa.”

  Joshua walked to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You know that I’d be proud to ride with you, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “We need to make sure everything here is ready in case of trouble. That will be our ride today, Will.”

  “At least it’s summertime,” Benjamin said, trying to keep his voice light.

  Mary Ann was surprised by that unexpected comment.

  “Last time I marched off to jail it was November. I think I prefer June.”

  “Please, Ben,” she whispered. “Don’t talk about it.”

  “This isn’t like last time,” he said, trying to sound hopeful. “We’ve got the law on our side now. We’ve got the Nauvoo Legion standing by. Don’t worry.”

  She laughed through the sudden tears. “Do you know how much I hate it when I’m worrying and you tell me not to worry?”

  He tried to smile, but his face betrayed him. He stepped to her, took her in his arms, and then just held her tightly for a long time.

  The farewells at the Mansion House and at Hyrum’s home were no less painful. Nathan watched with heavy heart as Emma and her two oldest children clung to Joseph’s coat. Emma was nearly hysterical, and Nathan wondered if she was having regrets about what had happened yesterday. Joshua had been incensed when he learned that Emma was part of stopping Joseph from escaping to the West, but Nathan, understanding the terrible cost that Emma had paid in the past, was willing to leave judgment to the Lord in the matter.

  There were nearly thirty in the party of horsemen that finally rode away from the Mansion House. Eighteen were under indictment—Joseph and Hyrum and sixteen members of the city council—and the rest were friends and associates who would provide the escort that Governor Ford refused to send. Nathan and Benjamin rode side by side. A deep gloom was upon them all, and few words were spoken.

  They moved slowly out of town, turning north on Durphy Street, then east again on Mulholland, which would take them past the temple before they turned onto the Nauvoo-Carthage Road. As they reached the top of the bluffs and approached the temple site, Joseph raised one hand and reined in his horse. Every eye lifted to look at the magnificent structure before them. The walls were all but done now, and Joseph had told the building committee he wanted the roof on by first snow. The gray-white limestone blocks were almost blinding in the first rays of the morning sun.

  Joseph turned to Nathan and there was suddenly a mischievous grin. “I kind of like the round windows,
don’t you, Nathan?”

  Nathan laughed, remembering that day with William Weeks, the temple architect. There was no glass in them as yet, but the effect on the eye was very pleasing. “I’ll bet it will be spectacular at night,” he chuckled.

  “I think so too,” Joseph said with satisfaction. Then, standing in his stirrups, he turned in the saddle to look to the west, out over the city below them. It was green and verdant, framed on three sides by the waters of the great Father of Waters. Here was evidence of five years of work and commitment. The swamps were all but gone. A city of some eleven to twelve thousand inhabitants, laid out in neat squares of city lots and rich farmland, filled what had been only wilderness before.

  A great melancholy settled on Joseph now, and it looked as though he was on the verge of weeping. “Brethren,” he said slowly, “this is the loveliest place and the best people under the heavens.” His shoulders lifted and fell, and he settled back into the saddle. His eyes were now filled with open pain. “Little do they know the trials that await them.”

  It was not quite ten a.m. when Willard Richards raised his hand. They were passing a small farmhouse about four miles west of Carthage, but coming towards them from the direction of the county seat was a long line of horsemen, led by an officer in uniform. At first there was a flutter of alarm. Had Governor Ford changed his mind and sent an army against Nauvoo after all? Men straightened in their saddles and nervously fingered their weapons. Joseph watched the approaching group for a moment, then shook his head. “Brethren, do not be alarmed. They cannot do more to you than the enemies of truth did to the ancient Saints. They can only kill the body.”

  Nathan shot his father an odd look. Is that supposed to calm our fears? he thought.

  But as the oncoming militia rode up it was obvious that while they were nearly as tense as the Mormons, they were not spoiling for a fight. Their captain motioned for them to stay where they were, then rode forward a few more feet. “I am Captain Dunn. I am here at the request of Governor Ford. Is Joseph Smith among you?”

  Joseph nudged his horse forward to the front of the company. “I am Joseph Smith, sir. We are coming to Carthage in obedience to the order of Governor Thomas Ford.”

 

‹ Prev