Mary Ann frowned. “Speaking of unclean air, the sickness has started.”
Derek and Rebecca moved up to walk beside them. “The shakes?” Derek asked softly.
Mary Ann nodded dolefully.
“Who?” Nathan demanded, the concern clear in his voice.
“I saw Emma this morning. Father Smith has it. He was up most of the night with the chills and fever. One of the Whitney children has come down with it. Emma says there are others. It just seems to be starting.”
An air of gloom settled over them with that news. The shakes—or ague, as it was more commonly named (pronounced egg-yoo by the settlers across America)—was something to be dreaded. So called because of the violent shaking that often occurred during the intermittent chills and fever, the sickness was found throughout the continent, but was especially prevalent in warmer climates and in areas which contained substantial wetlands. The fact that tiny protozoa which attacked the red blood cells and caused the debilitating infection were passed to humans from the bite of the female anopheles mosquito would not be discovered for another sixty years. People attributed the ailment to the musty, foul-smelling odor caused by the rotting vegetation so common to swamps and marshes. Thus came its formal name—
malaria
—from two Italian words meaning, literally, “bad air.”
They walked on in silence, and Nathan brushed absently at the mud caked on his pants. The mud carried the odor of the swamp too. Was he bringing that bad air back to his own family each day? He shook his head, determined that he would be more careful about bathing in the river after each day of digging.
As they neared their homesite, Mary Ann lifted her head. Up ahead she could see her family. They were clustered in a tight circle around Joshua and Caroline and talking loudly. “What is it?” she exclaimed to Nathan, feeling her heart drop. Was it bad news?
“I don’t know,” Nathan said grimly. He took her elbow and they increased their step.
Matthew saw them first and spun away from the group to run to her. “Mama, come quick. There’s news.”
“What?”
The rest of the family instantly fell quiet, stepping back. Joshua and Caroline were in the center of the crowd. Caroline was weeping. Olivia was holding her mother with one hand and patting her back with the other.
Alarmed, Mary Ann stepped forward quickly. “Joshua? What is it?”
He looked up at the sound of her voice. Quickly he came forward, leaning heavily on his cane, and took one hand. “One of my teamsters just brought us a letter from St. Louis. My business partner sent it up to us.”
“A letter?” Mary Ann said. Turning, she saw the letter in Caroline’s hand. “Is it from Melissa? Are they coming?”
“No,” Caroline whispered. “Our friends the Montagues forwarded it on to us from Savannah.” She was smiling and crying all at once. “It’s not from Melissa. It’s from Will. Will is alive!”
Mary Ann was staring into the fire, almost mesmerized by the dancing flames. With the urgency to get the cabins shingled, there hadn’t been much chance to talk about the news of Will’s whereabouts. But now supper was done, and the children were bedded down. “China,” she mused, almost to herself. “So there is no way to even write to him.” It wasn’t a question.
“No,” Caroline said, jabbing at the coals with a stick. “He wrote this to Savannah. He still thinks I’m there with the Montagues.” Sudden tears welled up, shining in the light of the fire. “He still thinks Joshua is dead.”
Joshua reached out and put an arm around her. “But at least we know that he’s all right.”
“All right?” she cried. “He’s fifteen years old and on a boat sailing for China. It will be next fall before we can see him.”
Lydia was near tears too, but she jumped in quickly. “Joshua’s right, Caroline. At least you know. And he is well. This is what we’ve all been praying for. That we could know where he is and that he would be all right.”
Nathan nodded in surprise. He hadn’t thought about the prayers that were part of the Steed family life every night and morning. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins—for the past six months, everyone had been praying for Will Steed. That he would be found. That he would be safe.
“Will is going to do fine,” Benjamin broke in. “It’s a real loss to not be able to see him for a time, but that sea captain knows what kind of boy you’ve raised. I’m not surprised he wants to take him under his wing.”
“But another year!” Caroline exclaimed. “It’s already been so long. Now another year and more. And out there with all those men. You forget. I lived in Savannah. I know what kind of men sailors are.”
Benjamin straightened. “Caroline,” he said softly.
She looked over at him.
“It’s not just the captain who’s taken him under his wing,” he said.
Her eyes widened, slightly puzzled.
“The Lord is looking out for your son,” he finished. “And he’ll bring him back to you in his own good time.”
Chapter Notes
John Deere invented the first steel plow in 1837. Along with Cyrus McCormick’s grain reaper, this was a major factor in opening the Great Plains to the sodbusting farmers who would eventually make it into one of the greatest food baskets in the entire world.
The first use of the name “Nauvoo” found in print does not occur until August 1839, more than a month later than shown in the novel. It is not known how soon before the August 1839 instance Joseph chose the name. The meaning of the word is as given here (see
HC
4:268).
Chapter Ten
On the third of July, 1839, the men of the Steed family finished nailing the last of the split-cedar shingles on the back room that would become Jessica’s school. It was the last of the four cabins to be done. They paused for several moments to survey with satisfaction their handiwork, then immediately set about moving their meager belongings from the tents and wagons into the four cabins. That night, for the first time in nearly ten months, they slept under their own roofs again without fear.
The next morning, they joined others living nearby for a brief celebration of their country’s birthday. One year before in Far West, they had erected a liberty pole as part of their Independence Day celebration, and then saw it struck by lightning a few days later. It proved to be a grim omen of things to come. So while there was rejoicing on this day—they were out of Missouri, they had a new home, and their prophet was free—it was tempered by concern about what the future might once again hold.
Immediately after the celebration, Joshua and Caroline started back for Quincy. Olivia begged to stay behind with her cousins, but Caroline insisted that she needed Olivia to help with Savannah. They were still getting their home in Quincy established, and Joshua was working day and night to get the business started. So promises of a quick return had to do for now.
That evening a little before sundown, Benjamin and Mary Ann had the first visitors to their new home. When they saw who it was, they immediately sent out back for Matthew to join them.
There were four visitors in all, and each one of them an ordained Apostle.
Brigham Young and Heber Kimball sat side by side. This was not surprising, for they had been close friends since Brigham had moved to Mendon, New York, in 1828 and become neighbors with the Kimballs. Both were thirty-eight, their birthdays not two weeks apart, which made them both about four years older than Joseph. They were a sharp contrast, these two. Both were laborers, craftsmen—Brigham a carpenter, joiner, and glazier, Heber a potter. But beyond that, the similarities ended. Brigham was about five feet ten inches tall and stocky in his physique. But when he stood, he tended to be stoop-shouldered, which made him seem shorter than he was. Heber, only slightly taller in actual inches, stood erect, almost stately and majestic. He was powerful of frame—his torso thick and strong from early years blacksmithing with his father—and beside him, Brigham looked almost slight of build. Heber’s eyes were nearly black and could pin a person with their flashing intensity. Brigham’s were a blue-gray and were most often mild—except when his temper was aroused, at which time they could darken into thundering storm clouds. Brigham’s hair was a reddish brown. It was full and straight, worn almost to the neck, where it turned under slightly. Heber was mostly bald. What hair he did have was black and worn thick. He let it grow down in thick sideburns that reached to the jawline. But different as they might seem, Mary Ann knew of no other two men who shared bonds as close as these two.
John Taylor and Wilford Woodruff were contrasts of a different sort, and considerably different from the two senior Apostles. They were only now becoming friends through their association in the Quorum, but before that they had barely known each other. Both were younger than Joseph Smith—Wilford by a little over a year, John Taylor by three years. They came from widely differing backgrounds. John Taylor had been born in England. He had emigrated to Canada when he was about twenty, and a few years later he married Leonora Cannon. It was there in Canada that Parley Pratt and Nathan Steed found the Taylors and brought them into the Church. John Taylor was almost regal in stature, with strong facial features, and he had a love for fine clothing. Brigham affectionately referred to him as their “dandy,” or sometimes called him “Prince John,” all of which Brother Taylor took in good humor. Together these qualities combined to give him an air of great dignity and respect. He spoke slowly and deliberately with a British accent that was softened little by his years in North America. Like Brigham, he was clean shaven and had a full head of hair, but his hair had a slight wave to it and was nearly silver now, even though he was barely over thirty. Basically quiet and more reserved by nature, John was a skilled wood turner and cabinetmaker, but he was also well educated and loved to read.
Wilford Woodruff was the shortest of the four, not more than five feet eight inches tall, but, like Heber, was powerful of build and a strong worker. His eyes were light blue and were the most arresting feature of the man. They were piercing, almost alive with power, and when he spoke, one could barely pull away from being drawn into their depths. His dark hair was thinning, and he was the only one of the four who wore a beard. He wore it Greek style, going around the bottom of his jaw and chin but leaving his face clean shaven. He had prominent cheekbones, and that, along with the beard, had a tendency to make his face look gaunt at times, especially when he was more somber. Mary Ann did not know him well, but in the few times she had been around him, she learned that this look was deceiving. His temperament was gentle and naturally cheerful. He easily forgave and was free of jealousy or misgivings about others. He dressed simply and lived simply. Both she and Benjamin were very impressed by the man and by his manner.
They visited briefly about the family and the new homes, then Brigham cleared his throat. He looked at Matthew. “Brother Joseph and the First Presidency came across the river the other day and had a meeting with the Twelve and some of the Seventies. Joseph is anxious that we prepare for our departure.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as possible. John and Wilford may get off right away. Heber wants to finish his cabin so his family can get out of that leaky lean-to they’re living in now. And I have to get my Mary Ann and the children settled as well. So he and I may be a little longer.”
Heber leaned forward. “But we are hoping to get away before the month is through.”
Good.
Matthew understood full well what it meant for these married men to leave their families for a year or more, but he was ready, chomping at the bit, as they said.
“It was a wonderful meeting,” Brigham went on. “Joseph and the First Presidency blessed the new members of the Quorum, Brother Wilford and Brother George, as well as Brother Turley and some of our wives.”
The others were nodding in agreement with that. “It was indeed wonderful,” Wilford spoke up. “They promised us that if we are faithful we shall return to the bosom of our families again and that they will be cared for in our absence.”
Mary Ann reached out and laid a hand on Matthew’s arm. “I am pleased to hear that.”
“They also promised us,” Wilford continued, “that we should have great success on our missions and see many souls enter the Church as a seal on our ministry.”
Brigham was excited all over again in the remembering of it. He stood and began to pace as he spoke. “Joseph spoke to us. He gave us a key. That’s what he called it. A
key!
He said that no matter what befalls us—persecutions, afflictions, bonds, imprisonments, even death—we must see to it that we do not betray heaven, that we do not betray Jesus Christ, that we do not betray the brethren, that we do not betray the revelations found in the Bible, the Book of Mormon, or the Doctrine and Covenants. No matter what, we must remain faithful. That is the key.”
The room fell silent as the power of Joseph’s words flowed through his senior Apostle and into the room. Then suddenly Brigham straightened. “What are we doing? We should have Derek here to hear all this too. That was why we came.” He looked at Matthew. “We need to plan for our departure, and we also wanted to share some of Joseph’s instructions with those who are going to accompany us.”
“Then let’s go,” Matthew said. “Derek is just across the street. He’ll be pleased to see you.”
Brigham reached out and shook Benjamin’s hand. “It is good to visit with old friends.” Then to Mary Ann, “Have Nathan bring you and Lydia across the river sometime. My Mary Ann would love to see you again.”
“Phoebe as well,” Wilford spoke up.
“I will.”
It was several moments before the door opened to reveal Rebecca standing there. Matthew was surprised. It was barely dusk now, but Rebecca was in her nightdress, and there was no lamp or candles burning inside. With the one small window facing west, it was quite dark inside.
At the sight of the men with Matthew, Rebecca looked startled. “Oh,” she blurted. She pushed quickly at a strand of hair, then tucked another one back in place. “Good evening, Brother Brigham. Brother Heber.”