The Monday after Matthew left with Brigham and Heber, Jessica began the first day of classes in her new school. There were twelve students. When young Joshua and Emily returned from Palmyra— whenever that would be—she would have fourteen. But even twelve left the small room quite full. They ranged in age from just under seven to seventeen years. Three were family—Jessica’s own Rachel, turning eight in January; Luke Griffith, her older stepson, who would turn seven in mid-October; and Caroline’s Olivia, who would be twelve in November. Three were adopted family—Peter Ingalls, now fifteen, helped Jessica with the teaching; and the two McIntire sisters, Kathryn, now thirteen, and Jenny, almost eighteen, lived with Jessica to help with the children as their pay for the schooling. The other six students were neighbor children, their families paying Jessica in meager services or future promises.
There were no chairs, only two long benches. The benches were made from split logs, and though Matthew and Peter had spent days smoothing them with a drawknife, a person could still pick up a sliver or two in the backside if he or she became too restless. Jessica had only enough slate boards for eight and had to rotate them around for writing and arithmetic lessons. Her most treasured items were the five sets of McGuffey readers Joshua and Caroline had brought as a present from St. Louis.
While teaching in Missouri, she had managed to find several copies of
The New England Primer
and had used that as her reading textbook. But she had never really liked them. First printed over a hundred years earlier, the
Primer
had been a staple of American education ever since. It contained a hefty dose of prayers and pieties along with basic reading material, which was fine. But many of the lessons, couched in verse to make them easier to memorize, were dour in their content and illustrated with pictures to match. It was the pictures that Jessica loathed. For example, the letter
F
was taught with the rhyme, “The idle Fool is whipt at school,” and a wicked-looking schoolmaster with a long switch proved the point. The
Y
entry suggested, “While Youth do chear, death may be near,” a Puritan reminder that one ought to take one’s happiness with a dose of gloom. Here a skeleton was shown arriving at a party of children.
But the new readers were sweeping the country now. A schoolteacher named William H. McGuffey had written new reading textbooks for the Ohio public schools. Volumes one and two of the
Eclectic Readers,
as they were titled—or the “McGuffey readers,” as they were more commonly called—were published in 1836 and became an instant success. Three more volumes came out the next year. McGuffey infused the books with a high moral tone. One might read stories like “True Manliness,” or “Perseverance,” but there was none of the grimness of
The New England Primer.
Children loved to study from them, and parents were pleased with the fact that their children were being taught important values. The five sets were a gift of inestimable worth to Jessica, and word that Jessica Griffith had the latest in educational materials was already spreading through Nauvoo.
The Steed store opened for business on the first day of October. It was not the only store in Nauvoo, but there was no question that it was the most spacious and had the broadest selection. They opened their doors to a brisk business that steadily increased almost daily. With Nathan and Lydia in New York, Caroline—now midway through her pregnancy—took the lead in running the store, but got consistent help from the women and older children of the family.
Joshua shuttled back and forth between Nauvoo, Quincy, and St. Louis on a regular basis, maintaining freight offices in each place. With the influx of population, the need for goods in Nauvoo outpaced the ability of the haulers to bring them in. By October, Joshua had doubled the number of wagons and teams he owned and still could not keep up with the demand. He and Benjamin worked with Joseph and the city leaders to get a steamboat landing built so Nauvoo could become a stop for the riverboats. Bringing in freight by boat was considerably less expensive than bringing it in by wagon.
Mary Ann was being matriarch and grandma to a growing clan, but with the store done, the school up and running, and Joshua’s business burgeoning, Benjamin found himself with little to do. Now fully recovered from any effects of the summer’s illness and his imprisonment the previous fall, the drop in activity left him increasingly restless. So on the tenth day of October, without saying anything to Mary Ann, he left their cabin and moved south, toward the Old Homestead.
Benjamin heard the noise of the children while he was still several rods away from the cabin where Joseph and Emma lived. Moving more slowly, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening, he came around the corner of the building and stopped. Instantly he started to chuckle.
The Old Homestead property was on the corner of Water Street and Main Street fronting the river. The cabin faced south, providing a wonderful view of the Mississippi as it straightened out again and headed for St. Louis and New Orleans. But that was not what made Benjamin stop. Joseph Smith was out in front of his house, where the grass sloped down to the water’s edge. A blindfold was tied around his eyes, and he was down on all fours. Julia, young Joseph, Frederick, and Alexander were dancing around him, taunting and yelling at him.
With a roar he came up on his knees, his hands clawing at the air, striking out blindly in the direction of their voices. They screamed and scattered, darting away from the “bear’s” deadly claws. Little Alex, not yet eighteen months old, was the slowest, his fat little legs pumping hard but not moving him nearly fast enough. Growling, and obviously peeking out from beneath the blindfold, Joseph grabbed Alex and went down, rolling over and over, “biting” Alex’s arms and stomach and neck. Laughing, screeching, hollering for help, Alexander struggled to get free. Instantly his siblings responded and swarmed Joseph to the ground.
“Good morning, Father Steed.”
Turning in surprise, Benjamin saw that Emma was standing at the door. She had seen him pass her window and stepped out to say hello. “Good morning, Emma.”
“Bang! Bang!” Young Joseph was pointing his finger at his father and fired off two “rounds.” With a great yelp of pain, Joseph stiffened, threw his hands in the air, then rolled over and went limp. Alex scampered free.
“Yea! Yea!” the children cried, dancing around the fallen monster.
Emma just shook her head. “I’m glad it’s you, Benjamin.”
“Why’s that?” he said, still smiling as he watched them poke at the bear and make sure he was truly dead.
“Some of our newer converts would find it hard to believe that this is the prophet of the Lord.”
Benjamin was nodding. He knew exactly what she meant. “Well, I think it’s wonderful.”
“It’s wonderful to have him home again,” she said, her voice soft as she looked in Joseph’s direction. “Really wonderful.”
Joseph heard their voices and sat up, pulling off the blindfold. “Good morning, Brother Benjamin,” he called out. Scooping up Alexander, he stood and started toward the house. Frederick gave a whoop and dove, throwing his arms around his father’s leg.
“Oh, no!” Joseph cried in horror. “The alligator’s got me.” He started forward, dragging Frederick with him. That was too much for the others. Young Joseph grabbed the other leg and hung on. Julia collared him around the waist and dug in her feet. “The alligators have got me! The alligators have got me! I have to get out of the river.” He came forward, lurching and moaning, dragging the giggling reptiles along behind him.
When he reached the step where Benjamin and Emma were waiting, he collapsed. “I made it!” he breathed in relief. “I’m safe.”
“Is there anything I can do to be of help, Joseph? I . . . I guess I’m feeling kind of useless at the moment.”
They were walking west along Water Street toward the river. Joseph stopped and looked at his old friend in surprise. “Emma said something to you, didn’t she?”
Benjamin shook his head. “No. About what?”
“About me coming to see you.”
Now Benjamin was genuinely puzzled. “No, she didn’t say anything.”
“Well,” Joseph said, laying his arm across Benjamin’s shoulder and moving forward again, “I have been thinking about you ever since conference.”
“Oh?” The second general conference since Joseph’s release from prison had been held just a few days before.
“Yes, as you remember, I preached a great deal on the importance of missionary work and having the Spirit with us as we teach the gospel.”
“Yes, I remember it well.”
“Well, at first I thought maybe it was time to call you on a mission.”
Benjamin started just a little, and Joseph immediately laughed. “You would be a good one, Benjamin. You have much wisdom and maturity that some of our younger brethren could profit from. But no, that’s not what the Lord has in mind.”
• “
Does
he have something in mind for me?”
“I think so.”
That was encouraging. Benjamin felt an immediate lift. “What?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You’ve been a great help to me over the years, Brother Benjamin, and you and your family have always stood by me. And you worked so profitably for us on the building committee for the Kirtland Temple. You have been a great strength to the Church.”
“Thank you. I find great joy in being of service.”
“I know. And so . . .” His eyes grew thoughtful. Benjamin waited. “There is much to do here,” Joseph began, speaking slowly, as if he were still working it out in his mind even as he spoke. “You had a lot of experience in developing land back in Kirtland, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I worked with Martin Harris and others. We developed some twenty or thirty building lots in the city.”
“I’d not thought of that for a time. That’s it, then.”
“What?”
“I’d like you to be on the committee for allocation of land and for planning our growing city.”
Now it was Benjamin who stopped. That was one area that hadn’t even crossed his mind as a possibility. “I would like that, Joseph.”
“Then it’s done! I’ll talk to Hyrum and the others this very morning.”
“I would be honored.”
“And Benjamin?”
“Yes?”
“It’s not time yet, because our people need to get homes built and occupations started, but we
are
going to build a temple to our God in this place. It is the Lord’s will. Maybe soon we can make an announcement.”
“That would be wonderful!”
“And when we do, I want Benjamin Steed on the building committee again.” He slapped him on the back. “Fair enough?”
Benjamin looked at Joseph and started to speak, but his voice betrayed him. He swallowed hard, then tried again. “If it weren’t for the Lord, I wouldn’t be here having this conversation with you, Joseph. You ask what you will, and I shall give you the best that I have.”
Caroline looked up as the door opened and a rush of cold air blew in. A man stepped inside, turning his back as he shook off the water from his umbrella onto the porch. Outside, the rain still came down in sheets, and she could see he had not remained completely dry. His boots were muddy and his pant legs wet to the knees.
He shut the door, stood the umbrella in the corner, then turned around. It was Joseph Smith. “Good afternoon,” he said cheerfully.
Jenny McIntire was standing next to Caroline. It was late afternoon and school was over, so Jenny was helping Caroline in the store. Not that she needed much help. With the storm, there were very few people out and about.
Jenny smiled brightly at their visitor. “Good afternoon, Brother Joseph.”
“Afternoon, Jenny.”
“Good afternoon, Brother Jos—” Caroline caught herself, coloring slightly. “Good afternoon, Joseph,” she amended. Being around Mormons all the time, one easily fell into the “brother and sister” habit.
Joseph laughed softly, but said nothing. He walked across the room to face them. He wore no hat, and his hair was damp against his forehead. “Oh! What a storm! There’s enough mud out there to rebuild the Tower of Babel.”
Caroline and Jenny both nodded. Nauvoo’s mud—black, thick, clutching—was worthy of world fame.
Now that twinkle, which was so characteristic of him, began to dance in his eyes, but his face was completely sober. “I had to stop and help Sister Emmaline Barney on my way over. She had started across the street and got both feet stuck down good and firm. Lost both of her button shoes. Don’t think we’ll ever see them again in this life.”
Caroline started to giggle. Jenny laughed right out loud.
“Pretty near lost her completely,” he went on, still as sober as a hanging judge. “If I hadn’t come along, I think she’d have gone straight through and been speaking Chinese before morning.”
Caroline lost control at that. She rocked back, holding her stomach. Jenny lost it too, doubling over as the laughter bubbled out of her.
Now a tiny smile began to play around his eyes. “Finally hooked up a span of oxen, threw a rope around one of them hoops under her skirt, and got her out of there in the nick of time.”
“Oh, stop!” Caroline cried. “The baby.” Tears were coming to her eyes.
Chuckling now, Joseph waited until their laughter subsided. Then he watched as Caroline straightened. “How
are
you doing, Caroline?”
She laid one hand on her stomach. “Quite good, really. I think it’s going to be a healthy one, the way it keeps kicking me.”
“That’s good. Emma asked me to be sure and inquire.”
“Tell her thank you for me.”
“I thought you were leaving for Washington today,” Jenny spoke up.
“Tomorrow. We’re off tomorrow.”
With nothing happening in Missouri to give the Saints redress, Joseph had decided to lead a delegation to the nation’s capital. Petitions were drawn up, depositions taken, losses cataloged. Now they would ask the federal government for justice. No one had much hope for it, but as Mary Ann had explained to Caroline, God had asked it of them to make sure their skirts were clean.
Noting that Joseph’s eyes had lifted and he was scanning the shelves, Caroline got down to business. “What can we do for you today?”