Parley looked at his sheet and began to read: “‘Requirements of Each Family of Five for the Journey Across the Plains.’” He paused, letting that sink in for a moment. “Each family consisting of five persons will require the following.” He glanced at his list from time to time, but was clearly citing much of it from memory. “One good, strong wagon, well covered; three good yoke of oxen between the ages of four and ten. Mules or horses can be used, but oxen are preferred. Two or more cows. One or more good beeves; some sheep if they have them.”
He stopped and looked around. Many were nodding. The wagon was the basis for everything else. One could walk a thousand miles, but one didn’t carry a four- or five-month supply of food and goods on his back.
Parley’s finger moved down the page as he read on. “Still thinking in terms of a family of five. You will need one thousand pounds of flour or other breadstuff and good sacks to put it in. One bushel of beans. One hundred pounds of sugar. One good musket or rifle to each man. One pound of powder and three pounds of lead, or perhaps more. Two pounds of tea; five pounds of coffee. Twenty-five pounds of salt. A few pounds of dried beef, or bacon, as they choose.”
A thousand pounds of flour,
Nathan thought in dismay. For city folk, especially those who had recently arrived with nothing more than the clothes they wore, that was no small requirement. And yet, a family of five would go through a lot of food in the months it would take before they reached their new home.
“Now, as for other equipment. For each two families, a good tent and some furniture to put in it.” Parley got a wry smile. “Brethren and sisters, we’re talking about cots and perhaps a wash basin here, not sofas and pianofortes.”
That brought a hearty laugh from the crowd and a reduction in the tension that had been building with the intimidating reality of the list he was reading. He lifted the paper again.
“From ten to fifty pounds of seed to a family. And from twenty-five to one hundred pounds of farming or other tools. Clothing and bedding to each family of five persons not to exceed five hundred pounds.”
Somewhere behind him, someone groaned. It sounded like the voice of a young woman, and that brought a second round of laughter. What Parley had just stated meant that on average, each person could take a hundred pounds of personal belongings. It sounded like a lot, but in most cases it would be a pitifully small portion of their total goods.
“One or more sets of saw and gristmill irons to each company of one hundred families,” Parley intoned. “Cooking utensils to consist of a bake-kettle, frying pan, coffee pot, tin cups, plates, and forks, spoons, pans, and so forth. But remember, a few items will serve you well on the trail. A few goods to trade with the Indians. A little iron and steel, a few pounds of nails.”
He stopped and took a breath, and Nathan glanced at Joshua. He was nodding slowly in approval. When Joshua saw Nathan looking at him, he leaned over. “He’s been careful. I think it’s a pretty good list.”
“Yes,” Nathan agreed.
“If you will consider all that I have read,” Parley began again, “that means that each wagon will be loaded at the start of the journey with about one ton of goods—not counting the family members. With the people, it will be about twenty-eight hundred pounds per wagon. For this reason, as you can see, people will be encouraged to walk when possible, to save the teams.” He paused, but there was nothing but a few nods. “A few horses will be necessary for each company. Also a few cannon and ammunition for the same. There is also added two sets of pulley blocks and rope for crossing rivers to each company of a hundred families. Two ferryboats to each company. One keg of alcohol of five gallons for each two families. Ten pounds of dried apples for each family. Five pounds of dried peaches. Twenty pounds of dried pumpkin. Two pounds of black pepper. One pound of cayenne. One-half pound mustard. Twelve nutmegs. One fish seine for each company. Hooks and lines for each family.”
He laid the papers down finally, took off his spectacles, and wiped them with his handkerchief. “I estimate that if a family were to start with nothing except their own personal clothing and bed stuff, outfitting themselves as herein described will cost about two hundred fifty to three hundred dollars.”
That did bring several low moans. In a cash-poor society like Nauvoo, two hundred fifty dollars was a considerable sum. Now Nathan saw Joshua shaking his head. “I think he’s low,” he whispered.
“This that I have read will require considerable sacrifice on the part of most of us,” Parley continued, “and so I would like to say just a word or two on that subject. I don’t know how this list of requirements has struck you, but I couldn’t help but think of how little it represents of what I have acquired since coming to this place some six years ago. We have, all of us, put in a great amount of expense and labor so that we could purchase lands, build houses, erect this beautiful temple. Now we shall walk away from it all. We might ask ourselves, why is it that after all we have done we are called to leave it? I would answer that, as our beloved Prophet Joseph taught us in the School of the Prophets, the people of God have always been required to make sacrifices. It is how we demonstrate our faith.
“And I say to you, my brothers and sisters, if we have a sacrifice to make, then I am in favor of its being something worthy of the people of God. We do not want to leave a desolate place behind, a place that will be a reproach to us, but something that will be a monument to our industry, our diligence, and our virtue. And I say to you, Nauvoo is such a place.
“I tell you,” Parley suddenly thundered, startling several, “there is no sacrifice required at the hands of the people of God but what it shall be rewarded to them an hundredfold, in time or eternity. That is the promise of God, and God’s promises are sure.
“We know that the great work of God must be on the increase and grow greater. As a people we must enlarge—in numbers and in our borders. We cannot always live in one city, nor in one county. Nor can we always wear the yoke that our enemies would place on our necks. We are modern Israel, God’s chosen people, and Israel must be the head and not the tail. The Lord designs to lead us to a wider field of action, where there will be more room for the Saints to grow and increase, and where there will be no one to say that we are crowding them in. We need a place where there is room to enjoy the pure principles of liberty and equal rights.”
A slight movement caught Nathan’s eye and he turned again to Joshua. To his astonishment, Joshua Steed was nodding in agreement. He sat back on his bench, staring up at Parley, and he was nodding his agreement. And then, on reflection, Nathan was not surprised so much. That concept of separation would make sense to Joshua. Get away from your enemies. Find a place where you were free to do what you wished. Yes, that would appeal to Joshua.
The Apostle leaned forward on the pulpit now, his eyes fiery and filled with power. “One small nursery may produce many thousands of fruit trees while they are small. But as soon as those trees expand towards maturity, they must needs be transplanted in order to have room to grow and produce their natural fruits. It is so with us. We want a country where we have room to expand, and to use all our energies and all the enterprise and talents of a numerous, intelligent, and growing people.”
He took a deep breath. “In short, I tell you that we are called to find a place of our own where we will be free to fulfill the destiny the Lord has promised. And I rejoice, my brothers and sisters, I rejoice that the time has finally come.” He picked up the list and shook it at them. “I rejoice that we are now being called upon to prepare ourselves to go forth and meet our destiny. Oh, may we only be worthy of what the Lord sees fit to place upon our shoulders!”
Chapter Notes
Fuller accounts of the doings of the Quincy committee, the mass meetings held by the anti-Mormons, the various resolutions, and the response from the Church can be found in B. H. Roberts,
A Comprehensive History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Century I,
6 vols. (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1930), 2:504–20 (see also
HC
7:447–53).
The minutes of the general conference for October 1845, including Brigham’s introductory address, his dedicating the temple, the business of sustaining the officers, and the remarks of Parley P. Pratt, are found in the official history of the Church (see
HC
7:456–64). The conference minutes do not say that during the session Elder Parley Pratt read the list of things required of a family for the journey west. We do know, however, that Parley was asked to calculate what the requirements for a family would be. The full list, used here in his speech, was included in the official history under date of 4 October, just the day before the conference began (see
HC
7:447, 454–55), so the assumption is that it was shared with the Saints at about this same time.
For more information on the apostasy of William Smith, see the chapter notes at the end of chapter 10 herein.
Modern Church members find the inclusion of tea, coffee, and alcohol on the list of supplies for the journey westward somewhat surprising. In the official history no justification is given for any of these. The five gallons of alcohol for each two families suggests this was medicinal, much like our own rubbing alcohol, and not some form of liquor. As for the tea and coffee, the
Encyclopedia of Mormonism
gives this explanation: “Compliance with [the Word of Wisdom’s] teachings was sporadic from the late 1830s until the early years of the twentieth century. The Church encouraged leaders to be an example to the people in abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee; but no binding Church policy was articulated during this time.” (S.v. “Word of Wisdom.”)
Chapter 21
On Wednesday night, the night of October eighth, 1845, the night following the last day of general conference, they gathered together at Nathan’s home. There were no children. Even the three babies, Jenny’s, Rebecca’s, and Jessica’s—two at seven months and one at six months—were nursed and left at home with older siblings or cousins. This would not be a night when the Steeds gathered together for light conversation or gentle laughter. This was the long-awaited Steed family council, a council to deal with the most pressing family crisis the Steeds had ever faced.
That they came to Nathan and Lydia’s home was not surprising. Brigham had told Nathan he was leaving him home to become spiritual head of the family in Benjamin’s absence. Most did not know that. Nathan had not ever said anything about it. But whether they knew it or not, they sensed the reality of it, and seemed pleased that someone was taking that role for Benjamin.
Lydia watched her husband as he greeted each couple and ushered them into their sitting room. He had taken Benjamin’s role, she suddenly realized, not because Brigham had said he should, but because he was the most like Benjamin. He
was
the spiritual leader of the family now. Even Joshua, who, as the oldest, might have felt that it was his place to lead out, accepted Nathan’s leadership as though it were the natural order of things. Benjamin and Mary Ann were expected back in the next three weeks or so, assuming they had received Brigham’s letter. What would happen then? Lydia wondered. Would Nathan step back again? Possibly, but she didn’t think so. But either way, until then the family accepted Nathan’s role and were glad for it.
And then as she too greeted each of them and ushered them into the sitting room, Lydia felt a peculiar mixing of sorrow and joy down inside her. How she loved these people! She was not related by blood to any one of them, but how dear they had become to her! She looked around, wanting to burst out with an exclamation of joy, and yet wanting to cry at the same moment.
Here were Matthew and Jenny, as much in love today as they had been on the day they were married four years before. Beside them on one side sat Derek. Derek—raised in the slums of Preston, England, grown up in the great cotton mills of Great Britain—was now a gentleman farmer of great depth and wisdom. He and Rebecca, with their three children, were a quiet but solid cornerstone of the family. On the other side, seated in matching hard-back chairs, sat Jessica and Solomon Garrett. Sweet, quiet Jessica, who had endured so much—a divorce, being driven from Jackson County in the midst of a bitter winter, a second marriage which ended tragically at Haun’s Mill, then exile to Nauvoo. How wonderful that she had found Solomon, who was so wise and gentle and caring. How right that she should now have found such complete happiness.
Directly across from them were the two young couples—Kathryn and Peter, Will and Alice. Both had recently come to love through markedly different paths. But love they had found. Soon they would be married and take their place in the family circle.
And then a strange thought struck her. Not one of the four were Steeds by blood. Will, Caroline’s oldest, was Joshua’s stepson. Peter, Derek’s brother, came into the family first as guest, then as friend, and finally as an adopted son. Kathryn and Jenny had come in with their Irish mother and been all but adopted by Jessica when Nancy McIntire had died. And finally there was Alice, truly an outsider in one way, and yet so much a part of the family in another. Lydia never thought of any of them as anything but family, as everyone else was family.
Carl and Melissa and Joshua and Caroline came in together at the last. Somehow, in Lydia’s reflective mood, that seemed appropriate, for here would be the greatest source of tears, the greatest challenge to the family’s unity, the point for which this council would need the greatest counsel.
Lydia pulled out of her thoughts as they found chairs and Nathan moved to the front of the room. She went to the chair beside him and sat down. Nathan let his eyes go around the room, letting the quiet settle in upon them more completely before beginning. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I think we all know that we are facing a crisis for the family,” he began. “I’d like, therefore, to suggest that we begin our family council with a petition to the Lord for his help as we wrestle with the issue at hand.” He looked at Joshua. “Would that be all right with you, Joshua?”