In truth, he reflected, all of the Steeds were prospering. The Steed family store was doing a brisk business. Nathan was working on putting another row of storerooms across the back and opening up some of the front ones for more store space. Lydia and Caroline still supervised the running of the store, but with its success, they now had hired a full-time woman and three part-time clerks to attend to the daily working of it. Matthew and Carl were both richly benefitting from the booming growth in the city. The woodworking shop run jointly by Matthew and Brigham Young had such a high demand for cabinets, furniture, railings, fireplace mantels, and a hundred other products, that they too had become employers as well as owners. Brigham was still heavily involved in his work as President of the Quorum of the Twelve, so they hired two men—one full-time, one part-time—to help Matthew at the shop.
Carl’s two brickyards were working double shifts six days a week. He opened another kiln in early June but still could not keep up with the demand. Carl was now one of Nauvoo’s more well-to-do citizens. Even Derek, who was content with his ten acres of farmland down near the river, was doing well. His assignment of acreage in what had once been a swamp proved to be a blessing. The rich soil was producing some of Nauvoo’s finest corn, beans, squash, and tomatoes. His produce sold readily as soon as it was harvested.
It was a good time, even for him, Joshua had to concede to himself. His father had been right. His decision to withdraw his opposition to the baptism of his family had paid off in rich dividends. Caroline was radiantly happy. Will had not said another word about going to sea, even though Joshua knew there was a growing restlessness in him. Olivia was like a child again, and the love between her and her father blossomed into something very special to Joshua. That didn’t mean that his feelings about the Church and plural marriage had changed at all. He made no attempt to hide those feelings, but neither did he feel that he had to keep waving the flag in front of his family to remind them of where he stood. And they in turn did not try to persuade him that he was wrong. In a way, the whole issue had become like a room in their marriage that had been shuttered up and closed off. It was always there. They passed back and forth by it a dozen times a day, but they never opened the door to step inside or to try and air it out.
He set his pen down and leaned back, fanning himself more swiftly with a book. It was an interesting contrast between himself and Carl. Melissa had never rebounded from the shock of what she had heard that night in Heber Kimball’s home. Though she claimed she was still saying her prayers and reading the Bible and the Book of Mormon, she and the children had not been to a worship service since that night. She still steadfastly refused to talk about it. This was far more than a closed room for them. It was a sealed tomb. It was as though she had erased any memory of it from her mind. On those few occasions when Caroline or Lydia or Mary Ann did try to talk about her feelings, she would simply turn away, as if they hadn’t spoken.
Carl had come to some kind of inner resolution with what the Mormons were doing—not acceptance, but a wary tolerance. He too spoke little of it. But things had changed. He still loved living in Nauvoo and being part of the Steeds, but it had been several years since he had been with his family. His sons and daughter had a wonderful relationship with all their cousins here, but they also had cousins in Kirtland. They loved Father and Mother Steed, but they had another set of grandparents they barely knew. More and more, he and Melissa started talking about maybe making a visit back to Kirtland. An extended visit.
With a sigh, Joshua set the book down and went back to work. The sooner he was finished here, the sooner he could leave the unbearable heat of the office.
Ten minutes later, Joshua was startled when the door to the office opened and Joseph Smith stepped inside. “Hello, Joshua.”
“Well,” he said, standing up, “this is a surprise.”
Joseph nodded and came across and shook his hand. Since the whole thing with plural marriage, Joshua had not seen much of Joseph. This was partly because of the press of matters on Joseph’s mind now, partly because Joshua had avoided Joseph whenever possible. Their relationship was still amiable, but there was also a definite coolness in Joshua now. Joseph had not seemed to notice or, if he did, had not let it affect his feelings at all.
“I was out east of town yesterday,” Joseph said. “That’s quite an operation you’ve made for yourself out there.”
“Yes. We really didn’t have a lot of choice. We had to expand and there just isn’t room here.”
“That’s wonderful,” Joseph said heartily.
Joshua pointed to a chair. “Come in and sit down.”
Joseph did so, and Joshua went around behind his desk again and took his chair. “I heard about Bennett going to Missouri and meeting with Boggs. Believe it or not, I’m sorry about that, Joseph.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you think will come of that?”
There was an enigmatic shrug. “The Missourians aren’t after legal redress, Joshua. If they get me back to Jackson County, I’m a dead man. So we’ll fight it in the courts.”
Joshua accepted that. He knew Jackson County well, and Joseph was not being overly dramatic. “So,” he finally asked, “what can I do for you?”
Joseph’s demeanor smoothed a little now, but there was still concern in his eyes. Only now it was for another reason. “Joshua, I know how you feel about everything that has gone on. I want you to know that I respect your right to believe as you choose. I really do. I am a firm believer in the doctrine that every man should be free to choose his own way in matters of religion. It disturbs me a little that some of our number tend to shun those who don’t believe as we do.”
That much Joshua had to admit was true. Joseph was a tolerant man. “I know that, Joseph, and I appreciate it.”
“So,” Joseph went on, “I know that what I am about to say may not be well received. I could tell you that I come only in response to the whisperings of the Spirit, but I know that doesn’t cut much leather with you either. But I still wanted to come to you first.”
“First?” Joshua asked warily.
Joseph straightened, his face determined now. “Yes. I’d like to call Will on a mission to England, Joshua.”
Joshua shot to his feet. “
What?
” He stared at Joseph angrily. One of the reasons why Joshua had given in on the baptism was to stop Will from leaving. Joseph knew that. And now . . . He couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
There was a sad, slightly sardonic smile now on Joseph’s face. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“Fair?” Joshua cried. “How could you even think of doing such a thing, Joseph? After all that’s happened, how could you even think it?”
“Well,” Joseph pointed out with equanimity, “I know this isn’t very helpful, but it’s not me who is asking this, Joshua. It’s the Lord.”
“Don’t give me that business,” Joshua snapped. “I don’t care if it’s the president of the United States who’s asking. You’re not taking my son.”
“I’m sorry, Joshua, but I have to ask him. The Lord has called him to England. It will be for at least one year, maybe two. Whether he’ll accept the call or not, I don’t know. But I have to ask.” He stood. “I’m sorry. This is something I’ve been dreading having to do for three days now. I’m sorry.”
In the end, it was not as hard a decision as Joshua thought it would be. He went home that night, grabbed Caroline, and took her for a walk. He told her everything, his anger rising all over again with the retelling of it.
“What more does this man want of me?” he fumed, throwing his hands out in frustration. “Haven’t I given enough?”
He turned to look at his wife when she didn’t answer. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was biting her lower lip.
“Now, Caroline, don’t start that on me,” he began. “I’ve bent over backwards—”
But she shook her head firmly. “I don’t blame you, Joshua. You’ve been wonderful, and now this.”
That took him aback. If she wasn’t crying because of his reaction, then why? He reached out and took her hand. “Then what’s the matter?”
“You’re the one who said it,” she reminded him, “just the other night.”
“What?”
“About how restless Will is getting.”
He frowned. He
had
said that, and it had been worrying him. Will was pretty well running the freight yard now and was making an occasional trip to St. Louis for Joshua. But the itch was on him as if he had rolled in a patch of poison oak. “Yeah,” was all Joshua said.
“He won’t say anything to you, Joshua,” she went on, “not after what you did for him in letting him be baptized. He’s very grateful to you for that. But it’s still there, this whatever it is. It’s not from anger anymore. It’s just that . . .”
He nodded glumly. Joshua knew exactly what it was. After the blowup between him and Benjamin, Joshua had headed west. For the next two years he had been totally on his own—working the river rafts up and down the Ohio, starting a freight business in Independence. Though he missed his family, the freedom was exhilarating. Will had experienced that too, only at an even younger age than Joshua had. He had been all through the Caribbean—Mexico, Cuba, the Bahamas. He had been to Europe and then on around the world to China. Nauvoo had to seem pretty confining after that. “Yeah,” he said again.
“You know what it means to me to have him here, don’t you?”
He looked at her and finally nodded. She had gone through months of agony when Will had been shanghaied and sent to sea. She had missed him terribly for the months he was with Joshua in Wisconsin. Now he would be gone again. “Yes, I do.”
“If he goes to sea, that will be it. You know that, don’t you?”
He thought about that and finally grunted. “Yes. I know he loves it.”
“Is having him gone to England for one or two years any worse than losing him forever to being a sea captain?” she asked softly. “At least this way he’ll come back home to us.”
So in the end, Joshua had to admit that she was very probably right, and he stepped aside and let Will go. Accepting it, however, did not mean that Joshua liked it. His resentment against Joseph and the Church now had one more thing added to it. He could live with it, but it still galled him deeply that Mormonism kept intruding itself into his life.
Will caught a stagecoach headed east on the second of August. The whole family had come to the stage station to see him off, and it was a tearful farewell. But when he had finished with Charles and Savannah, Olivia and Caroline, Will finally turned to his father. Nothing was said. Neither of them could have spoken at that moment had they wished to. Will just threw his arms around his father and they held each other tightly for almost a full minute. Finally, he pulled back, wiping at his eyes. “I love you, Papa,” he whispered. “I’ll miss you.”
Joshua nodded and stepped back. “I love you too, Will. Come back to us.”
“I will, Papa. I will.”
There was no question but what John C. Bennett was proving to be a formidable enemy. His decision to go public spread the poison of his lies like thistle pods blowing in a windstorm. The anti-Mormon factions were jubilant. They had long known there was a great wickedness in this accursed church; now at last they had the “proof” for which they were seeking.
In Nauvoo, Joseph and other Church leaders worked vigorously to undo the damage. Depositions were taken which directly contradicted Bennett’s claims that he had been forced to make his confessions. Letters were written to Governor Carlin of Illinois and Governor Reynolds of Missouri outlining Bennett’s slanderous nature and immoral conduct. Affidavits from those who had been seduced by Bennett and his associates were brought forward to support those claims. The Relief Society sent a petition to Governor Carlin with signatures from almost a thousand women testifying that Joseph was not immoral in any way. Another petition, signed by many non-Mormons as well as members, also testified to Joseph’s integrity and morality.
But it was like throwing shovels of sand at a raging torrent. Sometime during that summer, Orson Pratt finally learned about what had been going on with his wife while he had been in England. The problem was, he was only told the Bennett version of events. Feeling wounded and betrayed, Orson withdrew into a shell, refusing to discuss the matter with Joseph. When the Twelve drafted the paper announcing Bennett’s excommunication, Orson refused to sign it. When the general petition to Governor Carlin was passed around, Orson refused to sign that as well. Joseph confronted him directly. “Have you personally a knowledge of any immoral act I have committed toward the female sex or in any other way?” he demanded to know. Orson admitted that he did not, but he would not budge. Joseph asked Brigham and the Twelve to labor with their brother. He was unreachable. Before August ended, Orson Pratt, one of the senior members of the Quorum of the Twelve, was excommunicated. The casualty list had now reached into the highest circles of the Church.
On the sixth of August, Nathan and Benjamin crossed the Mississippi and accompanied Joseph and Hyrum Smith and several other brethren to Montrose, Iowa. Joseph had come with the deputy grand master of the second Grand Lodge of Illinois, from Springfield, to create a Masonic lodge in Montrose. Benjamin was a member of the Masonic lodge in Nauvoo, but Nathan was not. Nevertheless, Benjamin had convinced him to come over with him so they could look at some land while they were there.
They met at a small block schoolhouse, where the ceremony was to take place. While the grand master and Hyrum went in to train the new officers—only Hyrum was high enough in the order to participate—the rest of the men moved around to the east side of the school where they were shaded from the afternoon heat. The day was stifling, and the hosting brethren had thoughtfully filled a large barrel with water, then brought several chunks of ice from one of their icehouses to put into it. The shade was a welcome respite from the sun. The ice water was like a gift from heaven.
The men stood around the barrel, dipping their tin cups and drinking deeply. In the easy company that he kept with his brethren, Joseph stood among them, talking quietly. The talk turned to the whole thing with Boggs. Would Governor Carlin respond to the request of Missouri’s governor and issue a warrant for the arrest of Porter Rockwell and Joseph Smith? That generated a rumble of angry mutterings and shaking of heads. Would the Missourians never give up? This had been going on now for almost ten years, ever since the Saints had been driven from Jackson County. Would they never leave them in peace?