“I came to that same conclusion,” she said quietly. “That’s why I wrote your father.”
One eyebrow lifted. “You what?”
“I wrote Benjamin. I told him things are not looking good. I begged him to take the family and leave. At least for now. So if something happens and you do have to go . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to actually say it. “It’ll be better this way.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When did you write Pa?”
“Three days ago.”
He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “There are men up there stopping the mail now. It won’t make it.”
She was startled at that and started to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “Just as well. You know they’re not going to leave, Caroline. Not unless Joseph Smith takes them all out. I understand your wanting them to, but it’s not going to happen. You know that, don’t you?”
She pulled away, her eyes glistening now. “Yes,” she whispered.
He pulled her against him, forcing a smile. “It will be all right. Now, how about getting a soldier some real food before he has to leave again?”
Caroline didn’t move. “Joshua?” she finally said.
“What?”
“Before we go back in with the children, there’s something you need to know. About Olivia.”
* * *
“Joshua!” Obadiah Cornwell stepped through the front door of his home, his hand extended. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“Just rode in for an hour or two on my way back to Richmond from Jefferson City.”
His partner sobered instantly. “I hear things are getting very difficult.”
Joshua nodded, his eyes hooded.
“Have you heard anything from your family up north?”
“No.”
“Look, if you want me to go—”
Joshua took his arm, cutting him off. “Obadiah, I need to talk with you. There are some things I need to have you do.”
* * *
Lydia drew close to Nathan’s chest, pressing her face against the roughness of the skin beneath his nightshirt, feeling the faint but familiar horror at the welts that crisscrossed the chest and back beneath the material.
“It’s going to be all right,” he whispered into her ear. There was no sound in the cabin, and Nathan was pretty sure his parents were asleep along with the children, but he didn’t want to take any chance of waking them.
“I know,” Lydia whispered back to him. It was said bravely, but sounded terribly unconvincing.
“Really,” he said. “They’re gonna turn tail and run when they find out we’re not going to take it lying down.” When she only barely nodded, he went on quickly. “Remember how frightened you were when I went on Zion’s Camp? And everything turned out fine then too.”
She scooted up further in the bed, so her face was next to his. She kissed him softly. “I’m going to be all right, Nathan,” she murmured. “Just hold me. Just hold me tight for a minute.”
* * *
On Monday, October fifteenth, promptly at eight a.m., about one hundred of the brethren assembled with Joseph Smith at the public square in Far West. Shortly thereafter Colonel Hinkle gave the order and they marched out. It was a solemn group, but they tried to look brave for their weeping women.
Rumors that the Mormon army was coming leaped from house to house and from town to town across Daviess County. The reported number in the group jumped with each telling, and by the time the Reverend Sashiel Woods and Cornelius Gilliam and the other men they had linked up with heard the report, they made a hasty decision to abandon any designs on Di-Ahman. They scattered, leaving the field to the Mormons.
They scattered, but they did not leave. They spread across the prairies, looking for anything or anyone that might give them a chance to vent their frustrations and their lust for action. Led by the old settlers of Daviess County who knew the territory, they went straight for those homesteads and small settlements where the Latter-day Saints had not yet heeded the call to gather. Hay and grain stacks were scattered and trampled. Cattle, sheep, and hogs were sent stampeding through fields waiting to be harvested.
Bolstered by the eight hundred men from the south, and realizing that the Mormon army was camped at Di-Ahman, the plundering mob grew more brazen. Now the haystacks were torched. Stock was shot outright or run off to dress some Missourian’s table. Men were caught and tied to trees, whipped unmercifully with hickory withes, and left naked and half-dead.
On the morning of the seventeenth, a south wind was blowing, and great, dark clouds began to gather in the west. By late afternoon the wind shifted around until it blew straight out of the north. The temperature plummeted, and the first snowstorm of the season came slashing in. So did the marauders.
Between the towns of Di-Ahman and Millport, Sister Agnes Smith lived in a simple cabin with her two small children—one an infant just a few months old. Wife of Don Carlos Smith, youngest brother of the Prophet Joseph, she had not gone to Di-Ahman or Far West, because she had no man to help her make the move. Don Carlos had been called on a mission to Tennessee some time before. He knew nothing of the precarious position his wife was in. The men from the armies of Israel in charge of collecting the unprotected families and helping them gather in had not yet gotten to her.
And so, as a blizzard raged across the Great Plains, the men from DeWitt and the men from Platte and Clinton counties, armed and mounted on horseback, rode up and surrounded the cabin of Don Carlos Smith. Here was prey that wouldn’t shoot back. Drunk and hooting like a pack of wild dogs, they drove her out of her home. It was past bedtime, and she was barefoot and clad only in her night clothing. She had a screaming baby in one arm and a whimpering, terrified child clinging to her skirts. As she stumbled away into the night, the men who outnumbered her by twenty or thirty to one, went through the home, smashing, looting, desecrating. And when they were finished they kicked over the kerosene lantern and tossed a match into the spreading liquid.
It was three miles to Di-Ahman, and the Grand River lay between Agnes and safety. Shivering violently, feet so numbed with the cold she could not feel the lacerations, terrified that her tormentors would come for her when they finished their work at the cabin, she had no other choice. She told her oldest to hang onto her neck; then, holding the baby high, she plunged into the waist-high, icy black water. Half an hour later she reached the home of Derek and Rebecca Ingalls and collapsed on their doorstep, barely coherent enough to tell them what had happened.
It was around this time that General William Parks arrived from Richmond with a company of militia. He was at Lyman Wight’s cabin on the eighteenth of October with Joseph and the other Mormon leaders when the report of Agnes Smith’s experience and other similar cases started coming in. Incensed that the mob had chosen to attack women and children, Parks ordered Lyman Wight into active duty. Wight held a commission in the Fifty-ninth Regiment of the militia. He was to put the mobbers down and stop the depredations, using whatever force was necessary.
Lyman Wight was known throughout all of northern Missouri to Mormon and non-Mormon alike as a man of relentless courage and implacable determination. As he marched out of Di-Ahman the next morning, the word of his commission and Parks’s order outraced him. This time the old settlers knew they had no choice but to flee.
Furious at the Mormons, and equally furious with General Parks and General Doniphan for thwarting their plans, the mobbers hit on a stratagem for turning the tide back in their favor. Stripping their cabins and outbuildings of anything of value, they put them to the torch. When Lyman Wight arrived in Millport, he found only a dozen or so burning buildings or smoldering ruins.
As Woods and Gilliam and their Daviess County allies headed south for Richmond and the protection of General Atchison’s militia, they sent runners in every direction with the news. The Mormons had “riz” and were laying waste northern Missouri. They were looting, burning, pillaging. They were killing with unchecked abandon. If the government didn’t take immediate and drastic action, there wouldn’t be an old settler left north of the Missouri River.
Chapter Notes
The meeting in DeWitt in which the Reverend Sashiel Woods goads the men into riding north to plunder the property of the Latter-day Saints is documented in Joseph’s record (see
HC
3:161).
Joseph Smith did preach a sermon based on John 15:13 on Sunday, October fourteenth, in connection with his call for the brethren to march with Colonel Hinkle to Di-Ahman (see
HC
3:162). However, the exact time that David Patten told Joseph he had prayed for the privilege of being a martyr is not known (see
CHFT
, p. 200). It is the author’s device to place it on the same day as Joseph’s sermon.
In the novel the conversation between Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, and Thomas B. Marsh is also placed on the day of Joseph’s sermon. The conversation did take place as given (see
American Moses
, p. 65), but may not have been at that meeting. Ironically, Marsh did take Heber’s challenge to pray about the matter. He went directly to his office and later reported that the Lord gave him a revelation in answer to his supplications and he wrote it down. The Lord told him to sustain Brother Joseph and to accept what Joseph said. But his pride and his stubbornness were in the way and he could not do it. (See
American Moses,
p. 65.)
Seniority in the Quorum of the Twelve was at first determined by age, as noted in this chapter. David Patten was placed second to Thomas B. Marsh because at the time the quorum was organized Patten was not sure of his exact birth date. However, it is now known that he was actually about a year older than Thomas B. Marsh. (See
CHFT
, p. 154.)
The story of Agnes Smith, wife of Don Carlos Smith, has been fleshed out for purposes of the novel, but is based on the accounts given by Joseph and others (see
HC
3:163;
Persecutions
, pp. 214–15).
Chapter 13
Pa, I’m telling you, I don’t trust the man.”
Benjamin looked at his son as they walked briskly along toward the meeting place. “Neither do I.”
Nathan barely heard him. “Sampson Avard is a conniver and a glory seeker whose pride is exceeded only by his sense of self-righteousness.”
Benjamin looked at Nathan in surprise, then laughed shortly. “You don’t feel strongly about this, do you?”
“You better believe I do.”
“There are some men in Far West who would disagree with you about that.”
Nathan made a noise as if he had just bitten into something very foul.
“No, I’m telling you. There are some people who are quite taken with Dr. Sampson Avard. He’s a smooth talker.”
“That’s for sure. Ask John Taylor on that one.”
“Brother Taylor? Why him?”
Nathan peered at his father. “You never heard that story of what happened in Canada?”
“Having to do with Avard? I guess I haven’t.”
“That’s right. You and Mother had come to Missouri by then.” He paused a moment, collecting his thoughts. “He was stripped of his license to preach by the high priests quorum last October.”
“What happened?”
“Well, as you know, when Parley finished his mission up there he ordained Brother Taylor to preside over the churches in Upper Canada. Then, a short time later, the Taylors and the Fieldings and others came to Kirtland. That’s when they visited us.”
“Yes.”
“Well, before they got back, Avard showed up in Toronto. And he had papers with him saying he was to be the presiding Church officer in Canada. The papers were totally fictitious, of course. The dissenters in Kirtland wanted somebody besides Brother Taylor in charge up there because, as you know, John Taylor had been fearless in his defense of Joseph.”
“So what did Brother Taylor do when he got back?” Benjamin had slowed his pace and was watching Nathan closely now. This was a story that might just confirm some of the deep misgivings he had about what was happening.
Nathan wagged his head in disgust. “Elder Taylor was still so new in the Church, he assumed the papers were for real. He stepped aside and let Avard take over. I guess it was awful. The Saints said Avard was arrogant and overbearing. He nearly undid all the work we had done up there. When Joseph and Sidney went to Canada last August they discovered what was happening. Joseph was furious. He publicly rebuked Avard and reinstated Brother Taylor. When they got back to Kirtland, Joseph reported the incident to the high priests and they took Avard’s license away.”
“Well, that is probably what’s happening again right now.” Benjamin stopped and half turned. “Taking authority when he has none. Convincing people he’s acting for the leaders of the Church.” He was quiet for a moment, considering, then made up his mind. “Nathan, there’s something you ought to know before we get there.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you how I know this. The brother who told me was terrified. Made me swear never to tell anyone where I got the information.”
Nathan’s eyebrows lowered. “Terrified? Terrified of what?”
“Evidently our Sampson Avard has been holding meetings.”
Now Nathan was puzzled. “I know that. He’s been setting up companies of tens and fifties and hundreds just like Joseph has instructed us to do. I’m a captain. You’re a captain. We’ve been holding drills. Isn’t that what this meeting today is about? It’s for all the captains. Why is that so surprising to you?”
“I don’t mean those meetings, Nathan,” Benjamin said quietly. “I mean secret meetings. Meetings where everyone comes heavily armed. Meetings where they post a guard outside so that no unwanted intruders can interrupt them. Meetings where you have to show a secret sign and where you give secret passwords.”
Nathan’s jaw dropped and he gave his father a questioning look.
“That’s right. I’m talking about meetings where only those who have sworn a blood oath are welcome.”
“A blood oath?” The words were being heard, but Nathan’s mind couldn’t keep up with the implications of what his father was saying.