The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

  “That’ll be four bits, please.”

  Will fumbled in his vest pocket and found a half-dollar and handed it up. “Thank you.”

  The man touched his hat, then clucked to the horse. The carriage rattled away.

  The man who opened the door to their knock was a slight man, not quite as tall as Will’s nearly six feet, but twenty or thirty pounds lighter. He had a high, receding hairline, and wore a Greek-style beard, with one tuft of whiskers just below his lower lip. He was young, in his mid-twenties, Will guessed. Will thought he looked familiar, but wasn’t sure.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re looking for Mr. Samuel Brannan.”

  “I’m Mr. Brannan.”

  That helped explain the familiarity. Will had probably seen him while he was in Nauvoo. “I’m Will Steed, Brother Brannan,” Will said, “and this is my wife, Alice.”

  “Yes?” There was no sign that the name meant anything to him.

  “We’ve just come from Nauvoo.”

  His eyes momentarily widened; then his face broke into a warm smile. “Nauvoo? Why, bless my soul.” He stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

  They stepped inside and Will set down their cases. “You haven’t received a letter from President Young concerning us?”

  There was a moment’s reflection. “No, I don’t believe so.”

  Alice spoke for the first time. “We made very good time. The Ohio was still open almost to Pittsburgh. President Young’s letter is probably coming overland.”

  “What does it say?” Brannan asked.

  Will smiled slowly. “Well, we’re here to help. I think we’d better sit down and talk.”

  Savannah sat on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed, elbows on her knees, her chin resting in her hands. Her mother had piled her red hair on top of her head and tied it with a ribbon. She wore a green dress with a white pinafore and looked quite bewitching, which was exactly what she hoped to be. She had come to wheedle something out of her grandfather because everyone else had told her no.

  She watched Mary Ann, who was fussing around him, making sure he looked just fine. As she finished, Savannah began her quest.

  “Grandpa, why can’t I go to the temple dedication?”

  Benjamin turned around and smiled. “Honey, this is just a partial dedication of the temple. And it’s only for a small group of priesthood leaders. There just isn’t room for a large crowd in the attic story.”

  She wrinkled up her nose. “The attic story?”

  “Yes, the top floor of the temple. It’s called the attic story.”

  “Why? Do they keep old things up there?”

  “No,” Mary Ann laughed. “It’s just the top floor of the temple. So they call it the attic floor.”

  “Please, Grandpa. You could ask President Young if it’s all right. I could sit on your lap.”

  He stepped to the bed and bent over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m afraid not, Savannah. No children this time.”

  “When the full temple is dedicated in April, then we will all go, Savannah,” Mary Ann explained.

  “Why don’t we wait until April and do it all at once?”

  “Because Brigham is very anxious to start giving the endowment, and he can’t do that until that part of the building is dedicated.” He held up his hand, cutting off the inevitable next question. “The endowment is a sacred ordinance of the priesthood, Savannah. That’s all I can tell you about it.” And then to try and deflect her thinking he changed the subject. “No word from your father yet, I suppose?”

  “Not yet. It’s been almost two weeks now and Mama is very worried.”

  “We all are, Savannah,” Benjamin said, following them out. “We are praying hard for your father.”

  “So am I,” she said gravely. “I’m also praying that Papa will let us go west with you, Grandpa.”

  “I know, Savannah. We’re all praying for that too.”

  “This special meeting of the Steed family women’s council will now come to order,” Mary Ann intoned. The low buzz of conversation died and they all turned to look at her.

  “My,” she said a little sheepishly, “that sounded awfully official, didn’t it?”

  They laughed. In actuality, all of their women’s meetings were pretty informal. And this would be no different.

  There were nine of them besides Benjamin and Mary Ann. On his return from the temple that afternoon, Benjamin had spent almost an hour telling Mary Ann all that had transpired. It had so excited her that she proposed that they convene an immediate meeting with the women of the family. So Benjamin had gone from house to house, trailing an air of mystery and pointedly suggesting this was for ladies only and that the men should stay home with the children. That ensured that the women came—with the exception of Melissa, who declined the invitation—and that they came with an air of more than a little anticipation.

  “Father Steed, as you know, has just returned from the temple dedication,” Mary Ann went on. “He has something I think we all need to hear. Rebecca, would you open our meeting and ask the Lord’s blessings to be with us? Then we’ll turn the time over to you,” she finished, looking at Benjamin.

  As Rebecca finished her prayer and sat down again, Benjamin stood up and moved behind his chair. He leaned forward, using the back of the chair as a podium. “Well, before I say what it is your mother feels needs discussing, let me just say a word or two about the service. It was a wonderful meeting. I wish all of you could have been there.”

  “Who was there, Father Steed?” Lydia asked.

  “Well, all of the Twelve who are in town, of course. Uncle John Smith was there as a patriarch. Bishops Whitney and Miller were both there. Joseph Young, President of the Seventy, members of the stake presidency, some of the temple committee. Actually that was why I was invited. W. W. Phelps was there too. And William Clayton, of course, as clerk to the Twelve.”

  He paused, letting his mind run back over the morning’s meeting. “Brigham gave the dedicatory prayer. It was brief, just as it was at conference. It would come as no surprise to you to know that he pled with the Lord to sustain and deliver us from the hand of our enemies until we can finish the temple and complete the work God expects of us there.” He grew more thoughtful. “In Brother Brigham’s mind, the giving of the endowment has to receive the same attention, maybe even more so, as the preparations for going west. It is a matter of the utmost urgency to him.”

  “Now that the upper floor is dedicated,” Jessica asked, “did he say how soon they will start to give the endowment?”

  “Yes, and that is why we are here. He wants the rooms ready in order to begin administering the ordinance by the tenth.”

  “Of December?” Caroline asked in surprise. “Tomorrow is December first. He’s talking that soon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Jessica whispered. “We’ve waited so long, and now it’s really going to happen.”

  “And not only that,” Benjamin smiled, “you are going to play a role in getting the rooms ready. Brigham has called upon the sisters to help so that the work can begin on the day he has set.” He looked down at Mary Ann. “I think you should tell them the rest.”

  He sat down and Mary Ann stood up. Her face was infused with excitement and happiness. “We are very blessed that, as a family, we are being given an opportunity to help in the final preparations of the temple. As you know, many of the sisters, including some of us, have been busy making curtains and other furnishings for the temple. We have also been helping sew the temple clothing. Now President Young has made another request of us.”

  They were all watching her closely, the feeling of anticipation rising higher.

  “I don’t fully understand this. Perhaps Benjamin can explain more, but there are different rooms that will be used for the ceremonies.”

  “Yes,” Benjamin spoke up, “this will make much more sense to you once you have been endowed, and I can’t say too much abou
t it here, but the endowment symbolically represents man’s eternal journey, his moving from premortal existence through mortality and back into the presence of God. So as part of the endowment there are different rooms, and you actually move from one room to another to symbolize the progression from one state to another. There will be a garden room, representing the Garden of Eden. There will be one room which represents the world, and one—which is the largest room in the attic—which will be the celestial room. When you enter the celestial room it represents returning to the presence of God.”

  “When you received your endowment from Brother Joseph,” Jenny asked of Benjamin, “did you do all that?”

  “After a fashion. Joseph administered the ordinance to a few of us in the upper floor of his store. We had to improvise somewhat.”

  “It all sounds so wonderful,” Lydia said. Without thinking, she rubbed her hand across her stomach, now starting to show the first signs of the life within her.

  Mary Ann continued again. “Well, here’s the problem. Brigham has asked the wives of the Twelve to supervise getting the rooms ready. As you know, a call already went out to families all around Nauvoo to contribute rugs and carpets that can be used in the various rooms. Vilate Kimball has asked our family group if we could meet immediately with some other sisters to make the cotton veil that will be hung for the main ordinance room.”

  “A veil?” Kathryn asked curiously. “What will it be for?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” Benjamin said with a knowing smile.

  “Anyway,” Mary Ann said, “President Young has also asked families to contribute potted plants or small evergreen trees which can be placed in the garden room so that it will have the feeling of an actual garden. He also has asked for a few of our finest pieces of furniture and lamps that could be used in the celestial room. He is especially concerned about that room because he feels like it needs to symbolize the glory of the celestial kingdom. It must be very beautiful.”

  She stopped and they all began to talk at once. Benjamin let it go on for a minute or two, then raised his hands. “It is exciting, isn’t it?” he exulted. “Think of it. The endowment has not been on the earth for nearly two thousand years, and not only will we be among the first to receive it, we shall be privileged to help prepare the place where it is to be given.”

  He stood. “I shall leave you.” He grinned sheepishly. “I won’t be of much help to you now. You have some planning to do, and it sounds to me like this particular assignment has already been put in good hands.”

  When Lydia opened the door and saw Joshua standing there, she took one look at his face and the cry of joy that had started within her died in her throat.

  “Hello, Lydia,” he said heavily.

  Recovering somewhat, she opened the door wider. “Joshua, when did you get back?”

  “Just a while ago.” He looked past her. “Are Caroline and the children here?”

  “The children are, but Caroline is over at Derek and Rebecca’s helping put together some things for the temple.”

  “How about Nathan?”

  She stepped back, motioning him in. “He’s in the kitchen. Go sit down. I’ll get him.”

  Joshua nodded, looking numb, and went into the sitting room. A moment later, as Nathan appeared, Joshua heard Lydia rounding up all the children and suggesting they go upstairs to read a story.

  Joshua took the hardback chair by the lamp table. Nathan sat down on the sofa so he would be facing him directly. For a moment he studied his brother’s face, then spoke. “Not good?”

  There was a slow, heavy shake of the head.

  “Tell me about it. What happened? We’ve been worried sick about you. How are the ribs, by the way?”

  Joshua waved that away. “A little tender, but I’m all right.” Then he continued, his voice dropping to a dull monotone. “First of all, you have to understand how things are in St. Louis. The news about Alice and Will is all over town. Judith had sent out the letters of invitation for the weddings already. Walter had bragged to everyone about hiring a riverboat and bringing the whole family down. So when Alice and Will showed up with their news, it became a major scandal. Everyone is outraged.” His dark brows knitted together even more. “Unquestionably, it was having to face all those people that was part of Judith’s illness. But aside from that, I can tell you that the Steeds are not high on anyone’s list of favorite people down there right now. And having the whole situation be caused by a call to follow some Mormon missionary assignment doesn’t help any either. Not in Missouri.”

  Nathan felt sick for Joshua. He and Walter were, if not at the very pinnacle of St. Louis society, then very close to it. To fall from there would be long and precipitous. That it had been exactly that showed in the dullness in Joshua’s eyes. He looked as if he had endured an extended whipping, then been dragged behind a team of horses. “So what happened on your loan?” Nathan asked softly.

  “Well, to no one’s surprise,” Joshua went on, his voice void of life, “Ben Barber had already been around town, talking to people we do business with about the awful thing Joshua Steed had done. How could you ever trust a man like that? Even his own lifelong business partner, the venerable Walter Samuelson, had broken things off with him because his word means nothing now.”

  Feeling was coming back into his voice now, but it was dark, bitter, every word coming out as though it tasted of bile. “You’d have to know Ben Barber. He’s water moccasin, cobra, and prairie rattlesnake all rolled into one. He’s a harlot in a business suit, smooth as silk and deadly as arsenic. And he’s been after our businesses for two years now.”

  “I can’t believe Walter sold out to him, knowing that he’s that kind of a person.”

  “Walter was betrayed, at least in his mind. He feels that selling out to Barber was no more than what I deserved.”

  “Was he still there?”

  “He and Judith left the day after I arrived. He wouldn’t see me.”

  Joshua leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, and put his face in his hands. He began to rub his eyes. “I’ve had a lot of dealings with my banker over the years, so at first I thought it would be all right.”

  He looked up, and his eyes were dark and withdrawn. The look in them shocked Nathan. He had never seen him look so vulnerable, so totally beaten.

  “But,” Joshua continued, “when I explained about my stables being burned out, the bank panicked. Note how I said that. The banker assured me that he still trusted me completely, that he knew I was good for the debt. But the bank? Now, that was a different story. It was not in the best interests of the bank, he was most sorry to say, to have that big a loan outstanding with only a burned-out business for collateral. I tried to tell him that I’ll have another raft of lumber coming downriver first thing next spring, which will bring in more than enough to pay back what I owe. I was even willing to consign the whole thing to him.”

  “But he wouldn’t accept that?”

  “Well, at first I thought he was going to go for it. But two days later he called me back to the bank.” There was a long silence. Joshua was staring at the wallpaper now, letting his eyes trace the spiraling pattern. “Barber and his little weasel brother were there. They had heard about the fire and ‘come to help.’” His voice dripped with needle-sharp sarcasm. “They told the banker they wanted to buy out my share of all the businesses we were now ‘partners’ in, thanks to Walter. That would pay off the debt to the bank and leave me free and clear.”

  He finally looked at Nathan. “The fact that their offer was worth about thirty cents on the dollar was purely incidental, of course.”

  “No,” Nathan said slowly. “And the banker did it? Couldn’t you refuse to sell to them?”

  “Yes, if I hadn’t owed the bank forty-six thousand dollars.”

  Nathan sat back, deeply shaken. “So it’s done?”

  There was a bitter laugh. “Signed and delivered. Joshua Steed no longer owns business or property in St. Louis,
Missouri. None. Zero! Not a single bale of cotton.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Nathan said, his voice thin and strained. “Just like that and it’s all gone?”

  “Gives one thought, doesn’t it?” Joshua said with a mocking smile. “Here, just a few days ago, I was offering to bankroll the family’s trip west. Now . . .” He shook his head. “Caroline and I will be lucky if we can make it through the winter until I can get that lumber down here and sold.”

  For several moments there was silence as each considered all that this meant. Finally Nathan leaned forward. “The store is yours, Joshua.”

  His head came up with a start.

  “Caroline put twenty thousand dollars of her money into it.”

  “We’re not going to take the store,” he said shortly.

  “Why not? It’s half yours anyway. We’re leaving. We’ve got to sell it.”

  “Carl wants it.”

  Now the sick feeling in Nathan deepened even more as he began to realize just how profound this disaster was proving to be. “Carl can’t buy it. To no one’s surprise, the construction business has collapsed here in Nauvoo. Carl hasn’t had an order of bricks for two weeks. He still wants Derek’s farm, but he won’t be able to pay him anything for it until spring, when hopefully things will pick up again.”

  Joshua just stared at him.

  “We’re still pretty well off,” Nathan went on quickly. “We have the store. We’ve had people coming to look at the house. We used those three wagons that were partially burned to make two good ones.”

  And then suddenly his chin lifted and his eyes widened. “Come with us, Joshua!” Nathan said.

  “What?” Joshua said, startled out of his thoughts.

  “Come west with us. There’s nothing to hold you here now.”

  There was one soft hoot of derision. “No thank you.”

  “Why not? You’ve got to make a new start anyway. Why not out west? Why not with the family?”

  Abruptly, Joshua stood up, his face hard. “Well, in the first case, I’ve got some scores to settle. There’s that little matter of burning me out. I’ve learned the names of at least some of the men who did it. And then there’s the Barber brothers.”