“We know that only with thy power and thy influence can we succeed, O Father. Help us always to keep that in our hearts, to be humble and teachable, willing to submit to whatever thou seest fit to lay upon our shoulders, for only in thy majesty, and only in thy goodness, and only in thy love can we succeed.”
Heber Kimball went next, then Orson Pratt. One by one, the seven of them knelt on the cornerstone of the Lord’s house and poured out their hearts to God. By the time George A. had finished, a spirit of reverence and gratitude rested upon the group in a manner that left everyone somewhat awed. To Nathan’s mind came flooding back memories of the dedication of the Kirtland Temple, the last time he could remember personally witnessing such an outpouring of the Spirit. He felt chills run up and down his back. He could hear women weeping around him. He could sense that all were deeply moved.
When George A. returned to his place, Brigham nodded at his brethren. “Thank you,” he said, obviously as touched as everyone else. Then he straightened. “We shall now close by singing another hymn. Hymn number twenty-three.” He gave them a stern look. “And we’ll have none of this singing as if you’re afraid someone is going to hear you.”
There were sheepish chuckles and smiles all around.
“The Lord said that his soul delighteth in the song of the heart. We are here by appointment. Let us sing to the Lord, and let us sing worthy of his praise.”
Smiling, John Taylor stepped forward, hummed a pitch, then raised his hand.
This earth was once a garden place,
With all her glories common;
And men did live a holy race,
And worship Jesus face to face,
In Adam-ondi-Ahman.
Any fears of who might be listening seemed to disappear. They sang full throat, but with a sweetness that was like an angel’s choir. Once again shivers began coursing up and down Nathan’s back. He had to stop twice during the third verse, his voice too choked up to continue.
Her land was good and greatly blest,
Beyond old Israel’s Canaan:
Her fame was known from east to west;
Her peace was great, and pure the rest
Of Adam-ondi-Ahman.
Rebecca and Derek and Peter had moved to Di-Ahman, their sod hut overlooking the sweep of that lovely valley. Now, like Far West, Di-Ahman lay in ruins, abandoned by the Saints and left to whatever covetous eyes should rest upon her.
Nathan swallowed hard, then lifted his head and joyously sang the final verse.
Hosanna to such days to come—
The Savior’s second comin’—
When all the earth in glorious bloom,
Affords the saints a holy home
Like Adam-ondi-Ahman.
The song finished, but the music hung on the air like the morning mist that sometimes rises from a newly plowed field. After a moment, Brigham stepped forward one last time. “Thank you, brothers and sisters.” He glanced up at the moon, which was now halfway down in the sky. “We shall meet back again at Brother Clark’s house, where we shall breakfast and be on our way.” Once again that quiet little smile stole around the corners of his mouth. “It would probably be judicious if we were to be quit of the city before daybreak. However, there is a little time. Since this will be the last chance we may have to walk the streets of Far West, I suggest you are free to do so. Just watch the time and be back to the Clarks’ in no more than half an hour.”
Nathan moved slowly along what had once been one of the main streets of Far West. He reached out with the toe of his boot and kicked at a tuft of grass right in the middle of the street, amazed at what he was seeing in the moonlight. Last fall, the dirt of this street had been packed so hard from wheels and hooves and human feet, that in the late afternoon, when the traffic lessened, young children drew hopscotch courts on it with small pieces of soapstone. Boys bounced rubber balls on it as though it were a hardwood floor. And now grass and weeds were shooting up all through it. In another season or two, it would be barely discernible as a road anymore.
He lifted his eyes. Here and there, Nathan could see a wisp of smoke coming from a chimney, and he moved very carefully past these places, but mostly, Far West lay in ruins. Though the Missourians coveted the rich farms abandoned by the Mormons, for the most part they were caring for them from their own homesteads. That was partly because the militia set loose by General Lucas had wrought so much devastation. There were few houses and barns that hadn’t been unroofed, pulled apart, burned, or vandalized. He guessed that in five or six years, Far West would be like the streets—nothing more than a mound here and there to remind you of what once had been.
He passed his and Lydia’s cabin, letting his step slow only a little. It was a shell. The front door was gone completely. Someone had knocked the posts out from under the roof overhang, and it leaned at a crazy angle. There was a gaping hole in the roof where someone had yanked out the cross beams and the sod covering had collapsed. Through the doorway, he could see the moonlight shining inside the house. The memories rushed in upon him. Inside that cabin, Joseph Smith had given the Steed family a sermon on forgiveness, then brought Joshua Steed—alienated for eleven years—in to them to see if they had listened to what he had taught them. There was nothing in the cabin now, except the mounds of sod from where the roof had collapsed.
He moved on, toward the cabin where his father and mother had lived. As he came up on it, he stopped completely. It was a heap now, with only the back wall partially standing. In fury, someone had either pushed the walls in or tied ropes to them and pulled them over with a horse. The recollections of better times continued in Nathan’s mind. How many evenings had the family gathered here for dinner and then sat around just to talk? He and John Griffith had sat on the porch and talked about the land and farming and the future. Here Rebecca and Derek had shyly announced their engagement, and had spent the first night of their marriage. Here Nancy McIntire and her girls had announced they wanted to join the Church.
He moved slowly around to the back of the ruined cabin. Was the reaping machine still there? It had been Joshua’s present to his father, brought all the way from St. Louis. The mob had fallen on it in mindless rage. It had been a shattered wreck throughout the winter months. Now it was completely gone.
Nathan moved slowly to the window in the partial back wall and looked through it. There was no house to see into anymore, but he looked anyway. There was nothing left here either. No furniture. No handcrafted cabinet made by Matthew, with the help of Brigham Young, and given to Matthew’s mother as a gift. No rugs, no crockery, no beds. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to a hole in the floor, all that was left of the root cellar his father had dug beneath the main floor of the cabin. He shook his head. That was where Peter Ingalls had taken his stand against the ugliness of evil men. That was where Joshua had come in at the last moment and shot one of those men down, winning for himself later a bullet in his back. Will Steed was still lost to the family because of what had taken place here in those few horrible minutes, so the legacy of evil lived on even now.
Nathan turned away from the window, suddenly quite depressed. He looked up at the moon. It was lower in the sky now. The half hour was nearly gone. He moved away swiftly, headed for the Clark cabin. And then, to his surprise, his spirit lifted. What he had said to Derek and Matthew and Peter a few nights back was true. Missouri was behind them now. It was over.
Greatly cheered, he broke into a light trot. They had come to Far West, the task was done, the Lord’s commandment fulfilled. It was faces east now and on to a new life.
Chapter Notes
On his way to Far West, Brigham, as he later put it, “helped the Lord fulfill His prophecy.” He and the others with him met John E. Page on the trail. Elder Page, who had been ordained an Apostle the previous December, had lost his wife and two children during the extreme hardships of the Missouri persecutions. He remarried shortly before leaving Far West to take his family to safety. When the Twelve found him, his wagon was overturned in a mud hole and the Apostle was up to his arms in soapsuds from a spilled barrel of powdered soap. Brigham asked him to return to Far West with them. Dumbfounded, Page replied that he didn’t see that he could do that, since he needed to get his family to Illinois. But Brigham promised him that they were out of the reach of the mobs and that his family would be fine. When Page asked how long he had to get ready, Brigham’s answer was simple: “Five minutes.” Thus another member of the Quorum returned to Far West to fulfill the Lord’s commandment. (See
American Moses,
pp. 71–72;
Revelations,
pp. 232–33.)
The details of the return to Far West and the conference held there during the early morning hours of April twenty-sixth are given in several places (see, for example,
HC
3:335–40;
LHCK,
pp. 252–53; and
CHFT,
p. 226). The author had to add some detail to the actual conference held at one of the member’s homes and at the temple site, but the general outline of events is as they happened, including the singing of “Adam-ondi-Ahman.”
John Alpheus Cutler attended the conference at Far West in order to fulfill a revelation given on 26 April 1838. Among other things, this revelation designated the following 26 April—the same date designated, in another revelation, for the Twelve’s departure from Far West—as the day on which the Saints were to “re-commence laying the foundation” of the Far West Temple (see D&C 115:11). The work of building the temple had begun with the laying of the cornerstones on 4 July 1838, and, presumably after a winter break, work was to resume on 26 April 1839. Thus, in obedience to this revelation, Alpheus Cutler, as master workman for the temple, recommenced laying the foundation by placing a large stone near the southeast corner of the temple site.
Whether Orson Hyde was actually present for the 26 April conference is not indicated in the histories, but his penitence and his coming to Heber for counsel and help are a matter of record (see
LHCK,
pp. 244–45). Orson Hyde had written a letter to Brigham Young dated 30 March 1839 (see
American Moses,
pp. 71, 447), so the author’s assumption is that Brigham had received it before leaving for Far West. Later, Orson Hyde gathered with his family to Illinois, and there, on 27 June 1839, he made his formal confession to the Church and was restored to his office in the Quorum of the Twelve (see
HC
3:379). He remained faithful thereafter, making his famous trip to the Holy Land in 1841 and dedicating it for the return of the Jews.
The Prophet’s history tells of an interesting event that happened after the 26 April conference as Brigham and the others prepared to leave Far West and return to Illinois. It had to do with Isaac Russell, who had apostatized and left the Church:
“As the Saints were passing away from the meeting, Brother [Theodore] Turley said to Elders Page and Woodruff, ‘Stop a bit, while I bid Isaac Russell good bye;’ and knocking at the door, called Brother Russell. His wife answered, ‘Come in, it is Brother Turley.’ Russell replied, ‘It is not; he left here two weeks ago;’ and appeared quite alarmed; but on finding it was Brother Turley, asked him to sit down; but the latter replied, ‘I cannot, I shall lose my company.’ ‘Who is your company?’ enquired Russell. ‘The Twelve.’ ‘
The Twelve!
’ ‘Yes, don’t you know that this is the twenty-sixth, and the day the Twelve were to take leave of their friends on the foundation of the Lord’s House, to go to the islands of the sea? The revelation is now fulfilled, and I am going with them.’ Russell was speechless, and Turley bid him farewell.” (
HC
3:339–40.)
Chapter Six
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was organized on April sixth, 1830. Part of the instructions given to the Church on that day was that the Saints were to meet in conference on a regular basis. In these “general” conferences, where as many of the members were to be in attendance as possible, the business of the Church was to be conducted.
The last conference of the Church had been held in early October 1838. At that time, the situation in northern Missouri was extremely tense. Joseph Smith, away from Far West on important Church business, was not at the conference, and neither were several other leaders. By mid-October, things were in a crisis; and then, in early November, Joseph Smith and the other members of the First Presidency were arrested and incarcerated. Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball held priesthood councils, but not regular conferences.
It was not surprising, therefore, that one of the first things Joseph did after his return was to call for a general conference of the Church, the first to be held under the First Presidency’s direction since July of the year before. The dates were set for the fourth, fifth, and sixth of May. Perhaps never before had the Saints gathered in conference with greater joy. They were out of Missouri and sheltered by the kindness of the residents of western Illinois. Food, though not abundant, was at least adequate. Their leaders, save a few, had been freed and returned to them. And with all of that, spring had arrived in full blossom. The weather was warm, the air clear, and new life was in evidence everywhere. It was indeed a time for rejoicing.
Joseph Smith stood at the north end of the large field known as the Presbyterian campground, which was a short distance outside of the town of Quincy, Illinois. The field was already half full as Benjamin Steed and his family arrived, and still the Saints streamed in behind them. They came mostly on foot, but a few from the more outlying areas rode in carriages, wagons, buggies, or carts. Joseph saw the Steeds immediately and waved, though he was thronged with well-wishers and greeters. Benjamin waved back; then, turning to Mary Ann, he pointed to an open spot not far from where Joseph was standing. “Let’s go up there,” he said wryly. “I know your hearing isn’t as good as it used to be.”