Читать книгу Memoirs of John R. Young, Utah Pioneer, 1847 - John R. Young - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Daniel H. Wells.—Baptism for the Dead.—Lorenzo D. Young's Mission.—Wilford Woodruff.—Saved by Prayer.

The little band of one hundred twenty-five men who for three days defended the city of Nauvoo against fearful odds, are to me patriots and heroes, and their names and deeds should be handed down in history; for the wealth of history is the noble ideals it creates. Had there never been an angry Jewish mob, we should not have the martyr Stephen. Had there been no Gesler to hoist his cap on a liberty pole, there would have been no William Tell. Had there been no George III., there would have been no Patrick Henry nor Lafayette; and had there been no battle of Nauvoo, we should have had no Daniel H. Wells, as noble a patriot, and as true a lover of justice and liberty, as ever lived.

Daniel Hanmer Wells was one of the first settlers of Commerce, later called Nauvoo. When Joseph came in 1839 and bought land for the Church, Wells met the Prophet for the first time. He noted the intelligence and activity of the young leader. He (Wells) was studying law, and his legal attainments made him a useful man in the community. For several years thereafter he was justice of the peace, and thus became thoroughly acquainted with the people and their history. The result was that when the war-cloud broke, he shouldered his gun and for three days fought in defense of the weak and oppressed; and when they were overpowered, rather than submit to the enforced humiliation, he mounted his horse, bade adieu to his old home, and fled to the wilderness, casting his lot with the exiles, and becoming one of their staunchest leading men.

Now a few words about the ill-fated temple, that beautiful edifice which the Saints reared with so much love and sacrifice, and in which so many of our hopes and expectations centered. Like all other of our temples, it was erected for the benefit alike of the living and the dead. The Apostle Paul says, "If the dead rise not at all, then why are ye baptized for the dead?" Around that doctrine, amplified by later revelation, the Latter-day Saints have woven a social service that lays hold of the deepest affections of the heart, and in its scope is as broad as the ocean and as endless as eternity.

In the sacred font of that temple in Nauvoo, parents were baptized for their dead children, and children for their dead parents. There the husband and wife were sealed as such for eternity, and family ties were cemented to last forever. In the faith of every Latter-day Saint, the temple was therefore the holy of holies, the most sacred of all sacred places. Our enemies knew this; and fearing, that as long as the temple stood, we might be tempted to return, they resolved to destroy it.

A purse of five hundred dollars was raised by subscription and given to Joseph Agnew if he would burn it. On the night of October 6, 1848, Thomas C. Sharp and Agnew rode from Carthage to Nauvoo, twenty miles, and having a key to the front door. Sharp stood guard, while Agnew ascended to an upper floor and fired it. At sunrise the next morning there was nothing left but its four blackened walls.

Afterwards the Icarians, getting possession of the ruins, started, in 1850, to repair it for educational purposes; but a hurricane swept through the city and blew down the walls. Finally, piece by piece, the rock was hauled away, until not a stone was left to mark the place where the noble edifice once stood.

As soon as word of the mob's treachery reached Winter Quarters, teams were sent back to bring up the suffering remnants; and they were given all the care and attention possible under existing conditions. They received at least one comfort—they had the privilege of dying, if die they must, with sympathizing friends.

And die many of them did. As previously remarked. Winter Quarters was the Valley Forge of Mormondom. Our home was near the burying ground; and I can remember the small mournful-looking trains that so often passed our door. I also remember how poor and same-like our habitual diet was: corn bread, salt bacon, and a little milk. Mush and bacon became so nauseating that it was like taking medicine to swallow it; and the scurvy was making such inroad amongst us that it looked as if we should all be "sleeping on the hill" before spring, unless fresh food could be obtained.

While we were in this condition there happened one of these singular events which so often flit across the life of a Mormon. President Young called one day at the door of our cabin, and said to my father:

"Lorenzo, if you will hitch up your horses and go down into Missouri, the Lord will open the way, so that you can bring up a drove of hogs, and give the people fresh meat, and be a blessing to you."

As I remember, the next day father took me in the wagon, and with a "spike" or three-horse team, started on that mission. The only recollections that I have of that wonderfully productive land, were given me by that journey. The Mormons believe that Missouri embraces, in its bounds, that portion of the earth where Eden stood. Adam-Ondi-Ahman, the place where Adam gathered his children and blessed them, is situated five miles northwest from Gallatin, on Grand river.

I will now relate some incidents that took place on that trip to St. Joseph, Missouri. Soon after reaching the frontier settlements we camped for the night with a man who claimed to have been living on his ranch for sixteen years. The home was rather primitive, but the farm must have been a good one. His bins were full of corn, and his horses, cows, sheep, and hogs were fine and fat.

Father asked if he would sell a horse.

"Yes, if I can get a good price for one."

What was the grey Messenger filly worth?

"Well, that is a good animal; a wonderful traveler," and he wanted a dollar a mile for every mile that he had driven her in a day. And though we might not believe it, yet it was gospel truth, that he had driven that mare in his spring cart, thirty-five miles from sun to sun.

The next morning my father pulled out 'with a four-horse team. The Messenger fully proved one of the best animals that we ever owned. After a lapse of sixty years I tell this story to my children to show them the difference of ideas about hard driving between the people of the woolly west and the stay-at-home farmer near St. Joseph.

Upon arriving at St. Joseph we put up at Polk's Tavern. A Mormon family by the name of Lake had left Winter Quarters in search of work. One of the daughters had found employment at Mr. Polk's. Being frequently questioned, she had told much about the sufferings and the present conditions of our people. She knew my father well, and joyfully recognized him.

In the evening the bar room was full of gentlemen, all eager to learn the news and for two hours they listened almost breathless to father's talk. The next day parties approached father and offered to load him with merchandise. This he declined; but he secured the loan of one thousand dollars—I believe from a Jewish merchant—and wasted no time in getting down to business.

The first move was to buy a forty-acre field of unharvested corn. He paid four dollars an acre for the corn as it stood in the field. It was estimated to average sixty bushels to the acre. The best corn was gathered and put in bins. Heavy logs were then drawn crosswise over the field to mash down the stalks. Then a notice was posted for hogs. As a rule, they came in droves of about thirty and were bought in the bunch, at seventy-five cents a head. They would weigh from one hundred and fifty to four hundred pounds each. Father returned to Winter Quarters with a thousand head of hogs, and in this way President Young's promise to him had been realized.

We read in the good old Bible of an angel giving water to Hagar and Ishmael in the desert, when the patriarch Abraham had sent them away; and when Moses led two million Hebrew bondsmen from slavery to freedom, we read of how God rained manna down from heaven for their sustenance, and so wrought upon the elements, that for forty years their garments did not wax old. And I understand that the Hebrew children to this day remember with grateful hearts those special acts of providence.

Now, while I do not claim for the Latter-day Saints manifestations so marked as these, yet was there many a providential help given to us. What caused the quails to come in such tame flocks to our suffering camps on the west bank of the Mississippi river? They were so tame that many of them were caught by little children. And who led the Mormon maiden to Mr. Polk's tavern, and inspired her tongue to utter words of deep interest to citizens of St. Joseph, and thus prepared the way for my father to bring to our camps large quantities of food as sweet and nutritious as the quails or manna bestowed so providentially upon the camps of the Hebrews in the land of Palestine?

I remember well the place where I first saw Wilford Woodruff. It was out in the timber west of Winter Quarters. I was driving a yoke of oxen on a sledge, after a load of wood. Father and a man by the name of Campbell were chopping. The wood was oak and hickory. There were several men in the grove chopping, among them Apostle Woodruff. A cry came for help and the men ran together. Brother Woodruff had been caught by a falling tree and pinned to another one. The tree that imprisoned him was so heavy that the men could not lift it away until they had chopped it in two.

All said his breast was crushed, and they feared he was dead. Nevertheless, the brethren took off their hats, and kneeling around him, placed their hands on his body and prayed. Then some quilts were placed on the sledge and father hauled him home. I was but a boy; yet the earnestness and power of that prayer entered my soul, and gave me a testimony that has never left me.[A]

[Footnote A: President Woodruff's statement makes it plain that I am wrong. My memory has become confused. It must have been some other man that father hauled home.]

I know that the brave, resolute men who left their homes in Nauvoo rather than renounce their faith, were God-fearing men. Prayer was the balm applied by them for every ill. It was their comfort and solace from every pain. It was their first thought in the moning [sic], and the last word they breathed at night. It burst from the lips of the father and the mother at our camp fires, or from the hearth stones in our humblest dugout homes. In case of misfortune or accident, the first thought was for an Elder. The admonition of the Apostle James, as recorded in the New Testament, was engraven on the hearts of the Latter-day Saints. "If any are sick let them call in the Elders of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith shall save the sick." And I testify that our hearts were often gladdened by the reception and fulfillment of that gracious promise. In this instance our hearts were again comforted. Our people were passing through a period of sorrow and suffering. It was one of the darkest days in the history of the Church. Death was reaping a rich harvest from our stricken and depleted camps. We felt keenly the giving up of five hundred of our young men. Their absence made men precious with us, and Wilford Woodruff, being such an active, helpful man, how could we spare him! That cry came from our hearts, and God heard our prayers and answered them. In three weeks' time, Wilford Woodruff was again on the "firing line" as active and helpful as ever. Thus we saw recorded another miracle to strengthen our faith.