“All that are in favor of this, in all the congregation of the Saints, manifest it by holding up the right hand.”
As one single member of one vast body, thousands of hands shot upward. Men, women, children—it was like looking at a small forest miraculously sprung into instant existence. Brigham seemed to visibly swell with joy and relief.
“And those,” he said, with the greatest of solemnity, “that do not want the Twelve to preside, lift up your hands in like manner.”
Now every head in the congregation swiveled, searching the audience for any sign of movement, any one hand raised to the sky. There was not one. Nowhere. Not one.
Though without any audible sound, it was as if a great collective sigh of release swept through the crowd. The moment had come. The decision was now made.
“Brethren and sisters,” Brigham said, his voice husky now with emotion, “with the vote being clearly unanimous, this supersedes the other question about guardianship. There is no need to try that by the vote of the quorums. Thank you.”
Joshua saw Sidney Rigdon, seated on the stand, fold his hands in his lap. Sidney’s shoulders slumped. His head went down. It was over.
Chapter Notes
On 8 August 1844, two meetings were held in a grove of trees east of the partially completed Nauvoo Temple. Sidney Rigdon spoke for an hour and a half in the morning meeting, putting forth his cause that he should be appointed to lead the Church as spokesman and guardian. Brigham then dismissed the meeting and announced that they would gather again at two p.m. for a solemn assembly. The words of Brigham’s address are taken from the extensive transcript found in the history of the Church (see HC 7:231–42). Amasa Lyman, an Apostle but not of the Quorum of the Twelve, and Parley P. Pratt of the Twelve also spoke at the afternoon meeting, each speaking in favor of sustaining the Twelve. Brigham invited Sidney to speak, but he said he could not speak and asked that W. W. Phelps speak for him. Brother Phelps, who had been tireless in helping John Taylor and Willard Richards run the affairs of the Church after the Martyrdom, rose and spoke, but he too exhorted the people to accept the Twelve as their head. (See HC 7:236–39.) Those speeches and much else of what Brigham said are omitted here for the purposes of the novel.
It is not clear at exactly what point during Brigham’s speech the miraculous transformation took place, but unquestionably it had happened by the time he called for the vote. Several sources place the transformation in the morning meeting when Brigham first stood up. The official history suggests it happened in the afternoon meeting. The author chose to follow that placement, though he recognizes it may have happened earlier.
Here, in the people’s own words, are some of the testimonies borne about that day:
George Q. Cannon, seventeen at the time and later to be a counselor in the First Presidency, said: “If Joseph had risen from the dead and again spoken in their hearing, the effect could not have been more startling than it was to many present at that meeting, it was the voice of Joseph himself; and not only was it the voice of Joseph which was heard, but it seemed in the eyes of the people as if it were the very person of Joseph which stood before them. A more wonderful and miraculous event than was wrought that day in the presence of that congregation, we never heard of. The Lord gave His people a testimony that left no room for doubt as to who was the man chosen to lead them. . . . On that occasion Brigham Young seemed to be transformed, and a change such as that we read of in the scriptures, as happening to the Prophet Elisha, when Elijah was translated in his presence, seemed to have taken place with him. The mantle of the Prophet Joseph had been left for Brigham. . . . The people said one to another: ‘The spirit of Joseph rests on Brigham’; they knew that he was the man chosen to lead them and they honored him accordingly.” (Cited in Kate B. Carter, comp., Heart Throbs of the West [Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1943], 4:420.)
Wilford Woodruff described the event as follows: “If I had not seen him with my own eyes, there is no one that could have convinced me that it was not Joseph Smith, and anyone can testify to this who was acquainted with these two men” (Deseret Evening News, 12 March 1892; cited in HC 7:236).
Benjamin F. Johnson, who was twenty-six at the time, said: “As soon as he [Brigham Young] spoke I jumped upon my feet, for in every possible degree it was Joseph’s voice, and his person, in look, attitude, dress and appearance was Joseph himself, personified; and I knew in a moment the spirit and mantle of Joseph was upon him” (cited in CHFT, p. 291).
Zina Huntington, then a young woman of twenty-three, recalled: “President Young was speaking. It was the voice of Joseph Smith—not that of Brigham Young. His very person was changed. . . . I closed my eyes. I could have exclaimed, I know that is Joseph Smith’s voice! Yet I knew he had gone. But the same spirit was with the people.” (Cited in CHFT, p. 292.)
Mosiah Hancock, the young boy who ran barefoot across the Mississippi River ice as it broke up around him (see volume 4 of this series, pp. 577–78), was fourteen in August 1844. He said of that day: “Although only a boy, I saw the mantle of the Prophet Joseph rest on Brigham Young; and he arose lion-like to the occasion, and led the people forth” (as cited in American Moses, p. 115).
It should be noted that there is no known account by a nonmember who experienced anything unusual. Having Joshua there and having him hear what he does is a device used for purposes of the novel.
Once the vote was taken and it was clearly established in the minds of the people that the Twelve would lead the Church, Brigham called for a vote on several other important items of business. He asked if it was the will of the congregation that they be tithed as they had hitherto been, so that the temple could be completed. The vote was unanimous. He asked if the congregation would support the Twelve in carrying out missionary work throughout the world. The vote was unanimous. He asked if the Twelve could dictate the finances and other business affairs of the Church. The vote was unanimous. With the death of Hyrum Smith, the Saints were left without a Patriarch to the Church. Brigham reaffirmed that this right belonged to Joseph’s family and that it should have gone to Samuel Smith. But since Samuel had died for the cause as well, Brigham proposed that the Church leave it to the Twelve to determine which of the Smiths it should be. The vote in the affirmative was unanimous. (See HC 7:241–42.)
Chapter 9
When they reached Steed Row, only Carl and Melissa went right to their home, taking Jane Manning and the children with them. Will, Peter, and young Joshua took the carriages away to unhitch the horses and turn them loose in the pasture. The rest stood around, reluctant to part company, wanting to talk about what they had experienced, and yet still so overwhelmed by it that they weren’t sure they could talk about it. On the way home from the grove, there had been nothing more than whispered conversations between couples sitting together. There was no general discussion among the family, partly out of respect for Carl and Melissa, who were visibly disturbed over what had happened at the meeting. Now finally, with Carl and Melissa gone, Lydia asked the question that was burning in each of their minds. “Did you see it?” She was looking at Benjamin, but it was clear she was asking it of the others as well.
There was a long silence. Nathan saw that Joshua leaned forward slightly, his lips parted, his eyes not moving from his father’s face. Then Benjamin slowly shook his head. “I saw and heard Brigham Young give a powerful address,” he said in a low voice. “But that was all.”
There was no comment from Joshua, but he straightened again, the tension ebbing out of his body. His expression had not changed, but Nathan could sense his relief.
“I saw it, Grandpa!” Savannah said, moving up to stand beside Benjamin.
“Did you?” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and smiling. There was the briefest of glances back at Joshua, who had stiffened all over again. “What did you see, Savannah? Tell me about it.”
The blue eyes were large and lighter than the summer sky above them. The red hair, now darkening more toward the
shade of her mother’s, fell back across her shoulders as she tipped her head to one side, her brows knitting together in concentration. “It was . . . I don’t know how to say it, Grandpa. One minute I was watching President Young and then . . .” She frowned, as though trying to recapture it completely in her mind before going on. “And then it was Brother Joseph. I knew it really wasn’t, but Brother Brigham looked just like Brother Joseph.”
Five-year-old Christopher pulled free from Rebecca’s hand and trotted over to his cousin. “I saw it, Vanna,” he said proudly. “I saw Brother Joseph too.”
“So did I,” Lydia’s Emily said. She was twelve now and more a young woman than a child any longer. “I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
Joshua ignored the others. He was looking directly at his daughter. “Savannah?”
She looked up at him. “Yes, Papa?”
“Are you sure you just didn’t hear what your mama was saying? Sometimes when things happen around us, we want to see the same thing that others are seeing and—”
“Savannah wasn’t sitting by me,” Caroline said softly. “If you remember, she was sitting with Emily and Will and young Joshua.”
“Yes, Papa,” Savannah said. “I wasn’t sitting by Mama.”
He didn’t turn to look at his wife, but there was the briefest flash of annoyance before he smiled at Savannah. “Oh, that’s right. But tell me, who saw this . . . who saw it first? Did Emily tell you what she was seeing?”
Emily and Savannah looked at each other. They had sensed an edge to Joshua’s question, and Emily looked suddenly uncertain. Lydia smiled and nodded at her. “It’s all right, Emily. Try to remember for Uncle Joshua. Did you see that President Young looked like Brother Joseph first or did Savannah?”
Again the two girls looked at each other, this time trying to remember. After a moment, Savannah said, “I think you did, Emily. Remember? You grabbed Joshua’s arm and told him to look. I asked you what you saw and you told me.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Emily said. “I saw it first.”
Joshua nodded, clearly satisfied. “Thank you, Emily.” He said nothing more, but for the adults, at least, he didn’t need to.
“Pa,” Matthew said, “Jenny and Kathryn both saw it happen. I didn’t see anything. Like you. What does that mean?”
“I didn’t see anything unusual either,” Rebecca spoke up. “Derek did, but I didn’t. Why, Papa? Is it because I didn’t have enough faith?”
“I hope not,” Benjamin said with exaggerated horror, bringing a laugh from the others. Then more seriously he added, “I don’t know why, Rebecca. It just seems to be that some saw it and some did not.”
With that, everyone started talking at once. Lydia turned to Nathan. “You’re sure?” she whispered. “You saw and heard nothing extraordinary?”
He shook his head. “I always told you that you were the more spiritual of the two of us.”
Now it was her turn to shake her head and she did so vigorously. “You know that’s not true.”
“Maybe it was because I didn’t need a miracle to know that Brigham and the Twelve are the ones to lead us.” But even as he said it, he was shaking his head. “No, that’s not it either. You didn’t have any question about whether Sidney should direct us, did you?”
“None.”
His shoulders lifted and fell. “I don’t know, Lydia. I honestly don’t know.” And then he saw that while Joshua had moved over to stand beside Caroline, he was watching the two of them curiously and Nathan knew he had been listening. He drew in a breath. “So Joshua, let me ask you a question.”
Instantly all talking ceased and every eye turned to Nathan. He saw it in his family’s eyes; every adult here was dying to ask Joshua the question they were asking of each other, but no one had dared do it until now. Nathan could see the gladness in their eyes that he was going to do it for them. And then he saw something else. Joshua had gone very still and his eyes were blank, as if a curtain had been pulled across them from behind. In the split second it took for all of that to register in Nathan’s mind, he also saw the open warning on Caroline’s face: No, Nathan. Not now.
He smiled easily, grateful as another question came to his mind. “So, Joshua, do you still think Sidney Rigdon will lead a significant number of Saints off with him?”
Joshua seemed momentarily taken aback. Clearly he had expected the other question. He leaned back, trying to hide his relief. A thoughtful look came across his face. “No, Nathan. You were right and I was wrong. If the people had voted last Sunday, it would be Guardian Sidney Rigdon right now. But Brigham handled it beautifully today.”
Nathan smiled briefly at Caroline, to let her know he understood her mouthed “Thank you,” then settled back to listen. He had invited Joshua onto safer ground, and Joshua had planted both feet firmly there and planned to stay there for a time.
“I don’t know how long it will take Sidney to realize that,” Joshua went on, more warmly now, “but he is through. What Brigham did today was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. The crisis is over. You can feel it in the air. Oh, there’ll be a few dissenters, I’m sure. And you can bet there may be others who try to challenge Brigham, but no, the crisis is over.”
It was nearly ten o’clock when Joshua stepped through the front gate of Carl and Melissa’s yard and moved quietly up the walk. There was only one light on in the house, and through the open window he could see Melissa bent over some kind of sewing she was doing. She was alone in the room. There was a soft grunt of satisfaction, and he moved to the door and knocked softly. In a moment she was there, looking up in surprise at him.
He held out the book he had in his hand. “Hi,” he said. Then more sheepishly, “I’ve been going to return this book on breeding horses to Carl for almost a month now. I thought I’d better do it before I forget again.”
She laughed lightly and pulled the door open for him. “Joshua, there are two people you should never try to lie to. Caroline and me. We both know you too well.”
He stepped inside and set the book on the narrow table standing there. “Well, I have been meaning to bring it back.”
“I know. I’m just teasing. Come in.”
He looked toward the stairs and she laughed again. “Carl’s asleep. He’s taking a wagonload of bricks down to Yelrome early in the morning. We can talk.”
On impulse he took her in his arms and hugged her for a moment. He remembered the years of their growing up, and especially those last years when he and his father had started to act like two aging roosters trying to prove who was king of the barnyard. Always Melissa had understood the fires within him, the things that drove him so hard. “Thanks,” was all he said.
They moved back into the room where she had been sitting and sat down together on the couch. She half turned so she could see him as they talked. “Caroline wanted to come too, but she was quite tired tonight.”
“It was a long day.”
“Yes.” He was watching her closely, seeing the pain tightening the muscles around her mouth, the confusion in her eyes.
“Melissa?”
“Yes.” She only partially turned back towards him.
“We’ve always been honest with each other.”
There was a faint smile. “Well, almost always.”
His surprise was evident.
Now she chuckled. “Do you remember that day you got in so much trouble with Mama for eating her freshly baked gooseberry pie?”
“Yes.” His surprise had deepened noticeably. Then suddenly his eyebrows shot up. “That was you?” he cried.
She blushed. “Me and Emma Jean Thornton. We took it out in the barn and ate the whole thing.”
He frowned deeply. “I tried to blame it on the dog, but Mama always said the dog might lick the pie plate clean, but he wouldn’t have put it back up on the window sill.”
“That was kind of foolish, all right,” she said, her eyes warm now with the memory.
“Pa made me clean the chicken coop all
by myself for that,” he growled. Then he laughed in wonder. “And that was you? All these years and you never said.”
“I’d forgotten about it until you said how we are always honest with each other.”
He nodded slowly, feeling the warmth of their friendship as well as their family love. “So, will you be honest with me now?”
“I’d rather not,” she said, any humor suddenly gone now.
“What happened there today?” he asked, ignoring her stricken look. “Did you . . . I mean, when Brigham was talking, did . . .” He blew out his breath. “Well, did you?”
She stood and went over to the chair where she had been sitting. She reached out and touched the material she had been working on. Joshua could see the thread and needle but couldn’t discern what it was she was sewing. Finally she turned around.
“I saw him, Joshua.”
He went very still. “You saw who?” he finally asked.
“I saw Joseph.”
“Melissa, I—”
“I did, Joshua. It wasn’t just my imagination. I was looking at Brigham and suddenly it was Joseph. Just as plain as when he used to speak to us.”
“It couldn’t be!” he snapped. “Melissa! Think about it. Suddenly people were crying out, pointing. It was a highly charged moment. The people wanted some kind of a sign. It was the power of suggestion. Did Caroline or Lydia tell you what they were seeing?”
Her smile was sad but filled with love. “I’ve tried all that, Joshua. I’ve told myself the same thing all day. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe the sun was in my eyes. Maybe . . . maybe a hundred other things.”
He bent forward, staring at the floor. “It can’t be, Melissa. It just cannot be. Maybe you just wanted it to be.”
There was a soft, bitter hoot of laughter. “Joshua, Sidney Rigdon is against plural marriage. Brigham Young believes with all his heart that it is from God. He already has another wife. Maybe more. You think I wanted a sign that Brigham is the one to lead us?”
He lifted his head and saw in her eyes the agony she was feeling. He stood and walked slowly to her. She turned her back on him, tears suddenly welling up that she did not want him to see. He took her by the shoulders. “Does Carl know?”
The Work and the Glory Page 354