The Work and the Glory (310 page)

Joseph Fielding had strongly discouraged any emigration. Though he was president of the mission, and therefore the Church’s presiding officer in England, he didn’t feel that he could approve such a thing without the sanction of the Quorum of the Twelve. But now the Twelve were here. It was their decision.

From the beginning it was not a question of if, only when and how. The Lord had called his people to gather. Currently, they were gathering to Nauvoo. The only thing causing hesitation on the part of the Twelve was considering how to do it wisely. Fearing they might unleash a tide that could not be controlled, the brethren moved cautiously. Those who were ready to leave immediately could do so, they decided, but without making a lot of public announcement about it. No one with means should go without also assisting the poor to do the same. The Church would immediately begin raising funds and preparing the way for others, especially those too poor to get passage on their own.

They were cautious, but there was no mistaking the message. The center of the Church was in America, and if it was at all possible, the British Saints should go to America.

Never one to let grass grow under his feet, two days following the final day of council meetings, Parley Pratt preached to the members in Preston. This time, it wasn’t the restored gospel that was the topic of his sermon. This time he spent one hour talking about the
country
in which the gospel had been restored. When he finished, he had one very excited congregation of Latter-day Saints on his hands.

Derek and Matthew walked out with Jenny Pottsworth and her mother. They had barely cleared the hall, when Jenny reached out and grabbed Derek’s arm. “Is it really like he says it is?” she burst out.

“Aye,” Derek said soberly, “and more. Words cannot fully describe America. Only the eye and the heart can experience it.”

Matthew smiled at Derek’s eloquence. “England is a pretty wonderful place too,” he said nobly, “but America is so big. You can’t imagine. For example, Nauvoo is only about a third of the way between the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans, and yet it is a thousand miles from New York City.”

Jenny’s eyes grew large. England was an island nation. It was no more than four hundred miles from north to south, not counting Scotland, and there was a place not far north of Preston where the country was less than a hundred miles across. A thousand miles! It was almost impossible for her to imagine.

“But it’s more than the land, Jenny,” Sister Pottsworth was saying. “It’s where the Church is.”

“I know, I know.” Jenny’s eyes were dancing with excitement. She turned to Matthew. “How much did your passage cost?”

“It was eighteen dollars steerage.”

“Eighteen dollars?” Sister Pottsworth mused. “How much is that in pounds?”

“Roughly four pounds.”

Jenny’s face fell as she looked at her mother. “How much do we have saved now, Mum?”

“Barely five.”

“Oh.” The excitement died in her. They had been saving whatever they could, the both of them, since the day Derek and Peter had left for America. With only five pounds, it would be another year at least, maybe more.

Matthew watched her and felt her disappointment. He liked this pugnacious English girl. Her spunk and zest for life reminded him of his Jennifer Jo in many ways. “Look,” he said, “you can’t give up hope. Brigham has asked Brother Taylor to go to the shipping lines when he gets back to Liverpool. He expects we’ll be sending hundreds of passengers to America. He wants Elder Taylor to negotiate a better price.”

“But remember,” Derek said, always the realist, “eighteen dollars was just from New York to Liverpool. Then there’s the getting on out to Nauvoo. You’ll have to either sail around to New Orleans, then go by riverboat up the Mississippi, or get land passage from New York. Either way will take more money.”

Matthew acknowledged that with a nod, but pressed on with his point. “But Brigham is asking that those with means help those without. If you have five pounds already, you’re better off than many. You won’t have to wait as long.”

Jenny’s eyes brightened again. “Do you really think so?”

Now Derek was nodding, feeling a little guilty for being a wet blanket. He and Peter hadn’t waited until they had sufficient means. They had just gone and made it work. His mind was racing now, thinking about the possibilities. “There’s a group who want to go immediately,” he said. “They’ve been asking permission to go for some time now. They’ll probably leave immediately, by June for sure. There may be others who could go sooner, but Brigham wants to be ready to send a large group by September, a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred. He’s instructed Matthew and me to begin the preparations. Part of our task will be to see if we can raise funds for those who can’t pay their own way.”

Now Jenny was fairly dancing. “So it’s possible that we might be on our way as early as September?”

“Yes,” Matthew said eagerly. “You continue to work hard and keep saving your money, and Derek and I will see what we can do to find someone who might help you.”

With a squeal of joy, Jenny threw her arms around Matthew. “Oh, would you?” she cried. Then instantly she realized what she had done. Backing away, blushing furiously, she turned to her mother to try and cover her embarrassment. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Mum? September! Can you imagine that?”

Sister Pottsworth’s eyes were shining. She nodded slowly. “September. Yes, let’s plan for September.”

They had lined up along the railing of the
New Orleans Queen
while the big riverboat was still two miles south of Nauvoo. Now the dark mass of land jutting westward and making the great river detour around it was visible through the rain. There were eleven of them, all told—Nathan and Lydia and their three children, and Carl and Melissa and their four. No one else was out on the deck. The weather was too cold and wet, and no one else seemed to be headed for Nauvoo.

Emily looked up at her father, her cheeks rosy red from the stiff breeze blowing across the decks. “Papa?”

He leaned over so he could be heard over the constant roar of the great paddle wheel behind them. “Yes, dear?”

“Will Grandma and Grandpa Steed be there to meet us?”

“I don’t think so, Emmy. They have no way of knowing which boat we’ll be on or exactly which day we’ll be arriving.”

Young Joshua had gone through this same conversation the previous evening with his father. “They may not have even gotten Papa’s letter yet,” he explained patiently to his sister and the three Rogers boys beyond her. “So they may not know we’re coming at all.”

“But that’s all right,” Nathan added. “We don’t live far from the boat landing. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

Lydia was peering through the rain. The shore was close enough now that details were beginning to be visible. “Look,” she said, tugging on Melissa’s arm, “there’s the Old Homestead. That’s where Joseph and Emma live.”

Suddenly Nathan was leaning forward, squinting. “My heavens, Lydia, would you look at that. Look at all those new houses.”

She was staring too. Where there had once been only the Old Homestead and a few scattered cabins, now there were a dozen or more homes. Most were log cabins, but here and there were some nicely built frame houses as well. And beyond that, where they couldn’t see beyond the trees that lined the banks of the river, there were dozens of plumes of smoke.

Carl was staring out at the approaching city. “You said everyone was moving here as quickly as they could. I guess they need homes.” He grinned suddenly, almost shyly. Carl was typically a quiet man and not much given to showing his feelings, but now he couldn’t hide the excitement. “And if they need homes, they’re gonna need someone to freight in lumber and stuff for them.”

Melissa was holding little Sarah, but she reached out with her free arm and slipped it around his waist. “And food and clothing and a hundred other things,” she said happily.

“Some of which they’ll have to come to the store to buy,” Lydia added smugly. “
Our
store.” She laughed merrily, then reached down and scooped Elizabeth Mary into her arms and hugged her tightly. “Oh,” she cried, “we’re almost home. I think I am even more excited than you children.”

An island came between them and the east shore, blocking their view for a few minutes. Then as they passed it they could see the steamboat landing dead ahead. The roar of the great paddle wheel dropped off sharply, and the ship began to turn slowly to the right, toward the shore.

Then to their surprise, people began appearing. A series of lean-tos had been built at the land’s end of the dock to provide some shelter from the weather. Now a dozen or more people were streaming out from behind them, waving and calling out.

Suddenly, Emily was hopping up and down and shouting. “It’s Grandpa! It’s Grandpa!”

“And there’s Joshua and Caroline!” Lydia cried. She grabbed Elizabeth Mary’s hand and started waving it wildly back and forth. “And there’s Grandma! Do you see Grandma, Joshua?”

“Yes,” he called back. He was searching the children’s faces. “And there’s Savannah.”

“And Rebecca and Jessica,” Nathan threw in. “Looks like the whole family has come out to see us. Somehow they must have known we were coming today.”

Something in his voice made Lydia turn. He was grinning so broadly it looked like it might split his face wide open. “What?”

“That man you saw me talking to last evening when we docked at Warsaw?”

“Yes.”

“He wasn’t just a salesman come on board to find a buyer. He was one of Joshua’s teamsters.” He began to laugh, pleased with his surprise. “The family did get our letter. Joshua sent him down there and he’s been meeting every boat for the past four days. And I’ll bet he had a long, wet ride last night to beat us here and pass the word.”

“Look,” Lydia said, jerking on Melissa’s coat. “There’s Joseph.”

Melissa leaned forward over the rail. Joseph had been in Liberty Jail when she and Carl had brought the wagonload of food out to the family a year ago last February. That meant she hadn’t seen him since the Saints had left Kirtland, over two years before. But there was no mistaking the tall figure. He hung back behind the family, letting them surge forward. His hat was off and he waved it slowly back and forth. “There’s Joseph Smith, Carl,” she said, pointing. “There in the back.”

Joseph stayed at the rear of the crowd while the Steed family had their reunion. There were tears and smiles, children dancing around the dock and shouting excitedly, adults shaking hands or embracing warmly. Young Joshua, acting very mature, introduced the Kirtland cousins to their Nauvoo counterparts. Jenny and Kathryn McIntire joined Mary Ann, Jessica, Lydia, and Melissa to cluster around Caroline and the new baby. Joshua began giving Nathan and Carl a quick update on the store and the freighting business until Caroline shot him a dirty look and he said they would take it up after they got home. Mary Ann hugged Carl and gave each of his sons a piece of hard candy. Benjamin, holding Savannah, introduced her to Melissa and baby Sarah.

The riverboat was gone again and almost out of sight upriver before things on the dock finally began to settle down a little. Then Joseph stepped forward. Without a word he swept Nathan up in a hard embrace, pounding him on the back. “Welcome home, Nathan. Welcome home.”

He turned to Lydia, taking both of her hands in his. “Sister Lydia, it is so good to have you home again. I was most sorry to hear about your father. He was always a fair and honest man.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. How like Joseph not to hold bitterness toward one of his avowed enemies. “Thank you.”

“And you?” he asked softly, peering deeply into her eyes. “How are you?”

She nodded quickly, smiling through the tears. “I’m fine, Joseph. I really am fine.”

“That’s wonderful! Emma wanted so much to come, but as you know the baby is due in a couple of months now and I advised her to stay home.”

“How is she doing?” Lydia asked.

“Fine, fine. Don’t know whether this one is a boy or a girl, but it’s got the kick of an irritated mule,” he said proudly.

Now he turned to Melissa. “Dear Melissa.” He took her hands now too. “How good to see you again after so long.”

“And you, Joseph. It is good to see you again.”

“Welcome to Nauvoo.” He looked at Mary Ann and smiled. “The whole city heard your mother’s whoop when Nathan’s letter came the other day saying you were moving out to join us. That was good news for all of us.”

“Thank you.”

Now he looked up. Carl was standing right behind his wife. “Carl Rogers.” Joseph extended his hand. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes it has. How do you do, sir?” Carl said, a bit awkwardly, taking Joseph’s outstretched hand.

“You are the main reason I came down to meet the boat today, did you know that?”

Carl reared back a little. “I am?”

“Yes.” Joseph was very solemn now. “I wasn’t here when you and your wife came out from Kirtland last year. But I have heard much about it. I have been hoping that I would have the chance someday to thank you personally for what you did.”

Carl was at a loss for words. It was so straightforward, and yet so genuinely meant. “It was . . .” He shrugged. “We wanted to help the family.”

“You helped many more people than that. It is a pleasure to welcome a man of such integrity to our city.”

“Why, thank you.”

Joseph nodded, then turned around to face the group. “Well, I suspect you’ve got some celebrating to do, and I promised Emma I’d stop and get some bread from the bakery.” He gave a cheery wave, then turned and strode off.

“Well, wasn’t that nice?” Melissa said, deeply pleased.

“Yes,” Carl replied, still watching the retreating figure. “That was very nice.”

Chapter Notes

  Wilford Woodruff received word of the arrival of the rest of the Twelve on 9 April, the same day as the rock-throwing incident. In Wilford’s journal entry for that date, he briefly describes the shower of stones and being hit. He was struck more than once, but the blow to the head was the most serious. Referring to that hit, he writes, “But the Lord saved me from falling & I continued untill I had closed my Baptizing & my mind was stayed on God.” (See
MWM,
pp. 128–29; also
CHFT,
p. 230.) Nearly all the names of those mentioned as being baptized by Wilford Woodruff in this and other chapters are the actual names for British converts baptized on the days described.