Nathan took a long, slow breath. His shoulders lifted and fell. Then he cleared his throat. He carried the family Bible in one hand. “I have no right to say what I’m about to say. You’re already facing enough challenges.”
If he wanted to get through to them, he had just said the right thing. Their heads were up and they were watching him curiously now.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “each week we go to worship services and there we partake of the sacrament of the Lord. We partake of the emblems and promise that we will always remember the Savior. And we do this so we can always have his Spirit to be with us.”
They were still watching him, but no one spoke.
“Always remember him,” he said, almost to himself. “I’ve often wondered what that means. If I remember the Savior always, what difference would it make in how I react to an angry neighbor, a selfish friend—” He stopped, and then very softly added, “Or a bitter, angry father.” He met their startled gaze now, feeling a touch of shame that he was reminding them of the cost of discipleship when they were already paying such a terrible price for it. But he had no choice. He had thought long about this all afternoon.
“What difference would it make if I were to
always
remember the one who said that we should love our enemies and pray for them which despitefully use us? What difference would it make if I were to always remember the one who, even as the soldiers were driving great spikes through his hands, said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do’?”
The silence in the barn was total. No one moved as their eyes were held by Nathan’s. He sighed, feeling their pain. “I know that you have every right to feel betrayed, to feel that you have been wronged. I suppose when you three were baptized no one talked about this part of living the gospel, did they? No one told you that right at the toughest time of your whole lives, you’d still be expected to keep the covenants you’ve made with the Savior. Covenants like taking his name upon us. Always living his commandments. Forgiving others.”
Will’s lip was suddenly trembling and he looked away. “I don’t know if I can, Nathan. I don’t know if I can forgive him for this. For taking Mother and Olivia away from the family.”
Nathan wanted to go to him and take him in his arms and tell him it was all right to feel that way, that they had just cause. But he couldn’t. “You must, Will,” he said. “Because if you don’t, if you can’t live the gospel now, even when things are terrible, then your father’s right. The Church really isn’t that important to you.”
“But he’s wrong!” Olivia cried. “He thinks I’m lying to him. He thinks those awful things about me and Joseph. He won’t listen!”
“Do you love him, Livvy?”
Her head came up with a jerk.
“Right now? After all he’s done? Do you still love your father?”
“Of course, but—”
“Do you, Will?”
There was a long moment, then a slow nod. “Yes.”
“Then you must show him that you won’t let his anger and his bitterness turn your love away. Show him what a true disciple is like.”
Nathan opened the Bible and withdrew a folded sheet of paper from it. He handed it to Caroline, and as she took it she gave him a quizzical look. He motioned for her to open it. She did, scanning the lines in the dim light. Suddenly her eyes were brimming with tears. “Yes,” she said. “I understand.”
“What is it, Mama?” Olivia asked.
She turned to her children now. “This seems like a very dark time for us right now,” she began. “It seems like everything has just collapsed in around us.”
“Yes,” Will said, curious now too.
“Well, these are the words which God spoke to Joseph when he was going through a very difficult time too.” She turned the paper to the light and began to read, slowly and with much feeling. “ ‘If thou art called to pass through tribulation; if thou art in perils among false brethren; if thou art in perils among robbers; if thou art in perils by land or by sea—’ ” She looked at Olivia. “ ‘
If thou art accused with all manner of false accusations;
if thine enemies fall upon thee; if—’ ” Suddenly her voice faltered and the paper dropped to her lap. She looked away.
Nathan reached down and took the paper from her. “ ‘If they tear thee from the society of thy father and mother—’ ” He too had to stop for a moment, his hands trembling slightly. But then he went on with deeper resolution. “ ‘If they tear thee from the society of thy father and mother and brethren and sisters, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.’ ” He lowered the paper slowly, speaking mostly to himself now. “ ‘The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?’ ”
“Thank you, Nathan,” Caroline said. “Thank you for reminding us of who we are and what is expected of us. We will be fine now.”
“There’s something else,” Nathan said. “We had a family council this afternoon. You need to know that each week all of us, including the young children, will be having a special fast for your family. And we’ll not just be fasting and praying for you three. We’ll also be fasting for your father.”
Chapter Notes
Mention is made here of the family’s eating ice cream. Dating back to George Washington and colonial times, ice cream was a favorite dessert in America. It would be 1846, two years from the time of the action in this chapter, before a woman named Nancy Johnson would invent the simple hand-cranked freezer which allowed ice cream to be made at home with relative ease. Until then, ice cream was made by filling one large bowl with ice, then nesting another bowl inside that and whipping the mixture—eggs, cream, sugar, and some kind of fruit or syrup for flavoring—vigorously until it froze. (See
Discovering America’s Past: Customs, Legends, History, and Lore of Our Great Nation
[Pleasantville, N.Y.: Reader’s Digest Association, 1993], p. 56.)
It was on 20 February 1844 that Joseph told the Twelve to organize an expedition to go west in search of a possible location for a new home for the Saints (see
HC
6:222, 232). This decision likely stemmed from his Rocky Mountain prophecy mentioned earlier in this book. Some men volunteered and some preliminary efforts were undertaken for this expedition, but with the press of the election and the growing problems with the dissenters, nothing more came of it.
Chapter 37
It said a great deal about the depths of Joshua Steed’s feelings that within twenty-four hours of his visit from Robert Foster he had his family out of Nauvoo. Shortly after eight o’clock on the morning of February twenty-third, he loaded Caroline, Will, Olivia, Savannah, and Charles into a wagon filled with enough essentials to last them until they could find a home in Warsaw, fifteen miles south of Nauvoo. He stood back, quiet but resolute, while the family bid their farewells to his family. When that was done, he gave his mother a brief kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Mama,” was all he said. He shook hands with his father.
“I’m sorry it had to end this way, Joshua,” Benjamin said.
He shrugged, his face impassive. To everyone else he simply lifted a hand, said good-bye, then climbed up on the wagon seat and drove away. Will sat beside him on the wagon seat, Caroline and the other children rode in the back.
Upon their arrival in Warsaw, Joshua checked his family into the hotel, the same one he and Will stayed in each time they came through Warsaw, and saw to getting them supper. First thing the next morning, he went in search of Thomas Sharp, editor of the
Warsaw Signal.
Three nights later, Joshua Steed was the featured speaker to a capacity crowd at a rally of the anti-Mormon political party in Warsaw. By then, word had spread as far east as Carthage and across the river into Missouri, and Joshua had a wildly enthusiastic crowd. Joshua Steed, the famous and wealthy businessman from Nauvoo, had come out in open opposition to the Mormons.
After the rally was over, the masses surged up and down the streets of Warsaw, chanting, shouting, shaking their fists in the air. With each hour the barrels of beer and the kegs of whiskey emptied and the mood of the crowd grew more jubilant. Or, one might say, the mood grew uglier if one viewed it from the Mormon perspective, as Will, Olivia, and Caroline did from their hotel room. Savannah and Charles were asleep in the next room, but the three of them stood at the window of the second floor. The curtains were pulled open and they had no lamp or candles lit, so they could watch from the darkness what was going on in the streets. Olivia stood close to her mother, her shoulder touching hers for reassurance, her eyes wide and showing fear.
After several minutes, Olivia looked up at her mother. “They really hate us, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Caroline murmured. She felt cold and sick and dead inside. One hand strayed down to run across the swelling of her stomach. Was this what her child would be born into? How would she even find a sympathetic doctor or midwife in this town?
Will stared numbly out into the night. He had faced hostile ministers in England. He had spoken to more than one taunting street crowd. He had been splattered with eggs and tomatoes, and once had even had a vicious dog set loose on him. But he had never felt anything like this. “Now I know how Grandma and Grandpa and Nathan and all the rest must have felt in Missouri,” he said quietly. His voice trailed off and they stood there together, staring out into the darkness.
“May I speak with you, Pa?”
Joshua looked up from reading the paper. Will stood in the door of the small room at the back of the
Signal
building. Thomas Sharp was providing Joshua with a temporary office until he could find something to rent. He laid the paper down. “All right.”
Will moved inside and shut the door. Joshua watched him warily, noting that Will looked tired and drawn. Will sat down and leaned forward, peering at his hands.
What his father didn’t know was that Will had been awake for a good part of the night. He had carefully considered every facet of what he was about to do. He wished fervently that he could have counseled with Nathan on this. Or Joseph. Nathan’s counsel to Caroline, Will, and Olivia before they left weighed heavily upon them. On the other hand, Will was also deeply concerned for the welfare of his family, and he had finally decided there was a matter of principle too.
“I’m listening,” Joshua finally said.
Will sat up straight, then nodded. “All right. I have something I would like to say.”
“Oh, really?”
Will’s jaw tightened a little. “Look,” he said, “we can do this like adults, or we can toss out our sarcastic little jabs and make the whole thing very unpleasant. You choose.”
Joshua leaned back, then nodded. “All right, I’m sorry.”
Will blew out his breath. “Thank you.”
“So?”
“I want to explain something to you, something that may not make much sense to you.”
“I’m listening.” Then he had a thought. “Does your mother know about this?”
“No. This is just between you and me.”
Joshua grunted and motioned for him to go on.
“All right. I’ll try and say this clearly. First, let me say that I understand how you feel about what happened and why you insisted on our leaving Nauvoo.”
“Do you?” Joshua asked sardonically.
“I do. I don’t agree with it, but I think I understand. I tried to imagine last night what I would feel if it were my daughter and I thought she was being taken advantage of by unscrupulous men.”
“Not
think,
” Joshua snapped. “
Know!
”
Will sighed. “Maybe you ought to sit down and listen to Olivia—really listen—then maybe you’d change your mind.” He held up his hand quickly as Joshua started to reply to that. “But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I’m just saying that I think I can understand some of your feelings. That’s one of the reasons why we are here with you now.”
“You’re here because you had no choice,” Joshua said flatly.
Will just looked at him steadily, calmly, and after a moment, Joshua backed down. “Well, not you,” Joshua said. “You didn’t have to come. But your mother and Olivia, they knew what would happen if they didn’t come. They had no choice.”
Will sighed wearily and stood up. “Look, Pa, why don’t you just call me when you’re ready to talk to me like I’m a man, and not like I’m some little boy anymore.”
Joshua watched him through furrowed brows, taking his measure, recognizing something he hadn’t seen before. “All right, sit down. I’ll just listen.”
Will, not surprised, did so. “Mother came because she loves you a great deal,” he said. “She will miss the rest of the family, but she loves you, Pa.”
He finally nodded. “All right, yes. There’s been a lot of strain between us lately, but yes.”
“And I do too,” Will said, his eyes open and wide and vulnerable.
For a long moment, their eyes held; then Joshua nodded slowly. “I’m glad, Will. I love you too. Very much. Believe it or not.”
“I know, Pa. That’s why I’ve got to say this.”
“Then say it.”
There was a curt nod. “Did you know that Savannah came home from school this morning crying?”
Joshua’s head came up. “No, why?”
“You tell me why!” Will shot right back at him.
There was a momentary start, then a flash of anger. “Then I’ll take her tomorrow. I’ll talk to her—”
Will shook his head. “Mama and Olivia are going to teach her at home.”
“They’ll not be treating my family like this. Sharp will help me in this. I’ve already talked to him about it.”
“And will Sharp stop the angry looks on the street every time Mama steps outside? Will you and the good editor of our newspaper follow along behind Olivia and stop the whisperings and the catcalls from the young men? Oh, I know, you never see it happen, Pa. Joshua Steed is the most popular man in Warsaw right now. It’s just too bad that all of his family are Mormons. No one dares do anything outright, of course, but that doesn’t stop them from hating us.”
Joshua opened his mouth, then shut it again, thinking he knew what was coming next. He was wrong.