Startled, Joshua turned to Foster. “Sit down, I’ll be right with you.” He left the room and went down the hall. He found her in the kitchen. Savannah was in the washroom now, sitting with Charles. Will and Olivia were with Caroline.
“What?” Joshua asked.
“I won’t have those men in my home,” Caroline said quietly.
He was momentarily shocked, then quickly recovered. “Well, I didn’t invite them, they just showed up.”
“Well, I won’t have them here while we are in the house.”
The irritation he had felt earlier flared again. It had not been easy to extricate himself from Thomas Sharp’s plans for Joshua Steed, and it had cost Joshua considerable prestige when he refused to be an active participant in the rallies any longer. “Why not?” he snapped. “You don’t even know what they want.”
“Why not?” Will cried. “Do you even have to ask that? They’re opposed to everything we believe in.”
“Oh, I see,” he said haughtily. He swung on Caroline. “If I remember right, there was a time when you let Mary Fielding Smith into our home and she was opposed to everything I believe in.”
Caroline bowed her head briefly. “Yes, of course. You’re right.” She turned to Olivia. “Go help Savannah get Charles dressed. Will, you find their coats.”
A momentary look of dismay crossed Joshua’s face. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. We’ll return when your guests have gone.”
“Caroline, there’s another political meeting tonight. There’ll be lots of people out on the streets. I don’t like you out there on a night like tonight.”
She turned to Olivia, who was still standing there, watching her parents lock wills. “Olivia,” Caroline said, “I asked you to do something.”
“Yes, Mama.” She moved swiftly away.
“Caroline, come on. It’s not like I knew they were coming. Don’t be—”
“Will, get our coats please.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Well, suit yourself!” Joshua snapped. “I have a right to have guests in my home, same as you.”
“Yes, you do,” she agreed. And he knew she meant it. She walked past him and went to help Olivia.
When Joshua came back into the living room, Foster looked concerned. “I hope our showing up like this unexpectedly isn’t a problem,” he said, glancing toward the hallway.
“It’s not,” Joshua said shortly. “What brings you here?”
“We’ve something we thought you needed to hear. By the way,” he went on, “this is Leonard Soby.”
Soby stood and came over and shook Joshua’s hand. Joshua nodded briefly at him, then took a seat. “What is it?” he asked.
“Well, first of all, let us congratulate you on what you’ve been doing down here. We keep hearing reports of your good work. I—”
“I’m not in that anymore. I’ve got too much business to take care of.”
“Yes,” Foster said smoothly, “I got a long letter from Thomas Sharp telling all that.”
Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “You’re in touch with Thomas Sharp? Does Joseph know that?”
“Joseph is going to know everything soon enough,” Higbee sneered. “Tell him, Foster.”
Foster nodded and smiled. It was a triumphant smile. “That’s why we’re here. Day after tomorrow is general conference.”
For a moment Joshua looked blank, then remembered the large meetings the Church held twice a year. “So?”
Foster leaned forward, eager now. “Joshua, we’re going to depose Joseph.”
One eyebrow came up and he leaned forward. “Depose him?”
“Yes,” Higbee jumped in. “At the conference. We’re going to have him declared a fallen prophet. We’ll vote him out and put in William Law instead.”
“Wait a minute. As I recall, you claimed you have about two hundred people who are sympathetic to your views. And Joseph has thousands. How do you think you’ll be able to depose Joseph with that kind of a vote?”
“You don’t understand the principle of common consent in the Church,” Foster said with a condescending smile. “It doesn’t take a majority, just a few votes from people with the courage to defend their position. We’ve got him, I tell you.”
Joshua sat back. He had heard the family talk about their strange way of sustaining and upholding the officers of the Church. “And you really think that will work?” he said dubiously.
“Yes!” Foster cried. “Why don’t you come up to Nauvoo? You don’t want to miss this.” There was a sudden cunning look. “Bring your family. Maybe that will finally convince your wife that this church will no longer tolerate the doings of a wicked man at its head.”
“Caroline?”
She was at the small dresser, brushing out her hair. She stopped, watching him in the mirror.
“They want me to come to Nauvoo.”
There was a slight lift to her eyebrows.
“I won’t lie to you. They want me to come to the general conference. They say they’re going to declare Joseph a fallen prophet and have him voted out.”
There was a soft, derisive laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, Joshua.”
“I’m not,” he said snappishly. “But Joseph is in more trouble than he knows.”
She turned around now, totally incredulous. “What are you saying, Joshua? That you want to go to the conference?”
“Yes. I don’t have any part in this, I want you to know that. But if it’s going to happen, I’d like to be there.”
“It won’t happen, Joshua. I’d love to go back and see your family, but I’m telling you, it won’t happen.”
“Do you want to go or not?” he asked pointedly.
Now her eyes narrowed. “With the children?”
“Of course. I worry about you traveling that far in the wagon in your condition, but . . .”
“I’ll be fine.” Then, still thinking quickly, she added, “The conference will last for four days.”
“I know that. We’ll stay at the house. That will please Pa.”
“And what if your precious Mr. Foster is wrong? I won’t simply turn around and come back to Warsaw again after the first five minutes prove how utterly foolish these friends of yours really are. If we go, Joshua, we stay for the whole four days.”
He considered that. He needed time in Nauvoo anyway to conclude things with the freight business. And if things went as Foster planned, if they really did throw Joseph out, staying in Nauvoo for a while longer wasn’t an unattractive prospect. It would certainly make Caroline happy again. He nodded. “Fair enough.”
It was late, after ten, when Benjamin and Nathan knocked softly on the door of Joshua’s home.
Tired from the journey up from Warsaw, Caroline and the children had gone to bed. Joshua was working on a summary of the business for his potential buyers. At the knock, he looked up, then stood and went to the door. If this was Foster again, he thought . . .
“Evening, Joshua. Can we have a word with you?” Benjamin asked when Joshua opened the door.
Joshua gave his father a long look, then finally shrugged. “Surely you’re not going to try and change my mind about this whole thing,” he said with a touch of irony.
“About going to see Joseph’s ‘downfall’?” Nathan asked with a smile. “No, that’s not why we’re here, though I think you’re in for a surprise tomorrow.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Joshua grunted. But he stepped out on the porch and shut the door behind him.
Nathan stepped back. “First of all, I think in all the excitement today we forgot to tell you. Yesterday we got a letter from Melissa. Carl’s father died a couple of weeks after they got to Kirtland.”
“Oh,” Joshua said. “Sorry to hear that.”
“She says Carl wants to stay through the summer at least.”
Joshua caught the significance of the last two words. “So, that makes two of us Joseph has driven away.”
Benjamin decided not to comment o
n that. Instead his shoulders lifted and fell. “Joshua, there’s something we think you need to know about Foster and that bunch.”
“Why? You think I’m somehow associated with that group? No thank you.”
Benjamin didn’t try to hide his surprise. “That’s not what they’re saying.”
Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “What are they saying?”
“Foster is bragging about how they went to Warsaw and convinced you to come up here. He hasn’t said it right out, but he’s hinting strongly that you are in this with them and—”
“Well, I’m not,” Joshua cut in sharply. “They came and told me that Joseph’s going to be voted out this conference. If that happens, I’d like to be here. That’s the only reason I came.”
There was a long appraising look from Nathan, and then he nodded. “I’m glad, Joshua. Will told me that you’re not actively participating in the anti-Mormon party either. That means a lot to us.”
“Will talks too much,” Joshua muttered. But down deep he was secretly pleased that his family knew he had made that choice at least. In that, Will had been right. He couldn’t lead a fight that might hurt his family. “So, knowing that I’m not a part of it, what else did you have to say?”
“Did you know that they are conspiring to murder Joseph?” Benjamin asked.
Joshua jerked a little in spite of himself, then shook his head. “They’re going to try to get Joseph declared a false prophet, but murder? I think you’re seeing ghosts in the graveyard.”
“No, it’s far more than that,” Nathan said, glad to see Joshua’s genuine shock. “We have testimony that Foster and the Laws and the Higbees have sworn on a Bible that they will not rest until Joseph is destroyed.”
Joshua didn’t want to believe any of this, but he had to admit that it rang true. It was just the kind of melodramatic nonsense that Foster and his cronies would dream up. He finally nodded. “That wouldn’t come as a great shock. But I am not a part of it, Nathan. Not in any way. I want no part of them or their dough-headed schemes.”
Benjamin gave him a sharp look, then smiled. “Dough heads. You know who called them that, don’t you?”
Now Joshua smiled. “Yes,” he said ruefully, “it’s the only thing I’ve ever heard that makes me think Joseph is a prophet.”
The three of them laughed at that and the tension was gone.
“It’s good to see you and the family again, Joshua,” his father said.
“Thank you. It feels good to be back.” Then before they could draw any conclusions from that, he went on. “But make no mistake, Pa. If Joseph is not turned out of office in the next couple of days, I’ll not be coming back to Nauvoo. Not ever.”
Benjamin nodded, the sorrow clearly written on his face. “I understand, Joshua.”
Chapter Notes
Just as the Savior knew of his coming crucifixion and spent increasing time with his Apostles preparing them for when he would no longer be with them, in a similar manner, during the spring of 1844 Joseph Smith felt an increasing intimation of his coming death; and like the Master whom he served, Joseph worked feverishly to make sure the Twelve were ready for the responsibility that would soon rest upon them. Once that was done, it was as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and, in the words of Orson Hyde, “he rejoiced very much.” Some of the comments Joseph makes in this chapter are drawn from things he said at an earlier date about the fact that his mission might be coming to a close. He did speak at this March 1844 meeting about his coming death, however, and then went on to speak about the Twelve now having the keys of the kingdom so they could carry on the work if Joseph was taken. (See HC 4:587; CHFT, pp. 273–74; Draft Declaration of the Twelve Apostles, reporting March 1844 meeting of Twelve, as cited by Boyd K. Packer, “ ‘The Shield of Faith,’ ” Ensign, 25 [May 1995]: 7.)
Late in March of 1844, Joseph Smith told an assembly of the Saints that there was a conspiracy against his life. Hyrum counseled him not to publicly inflame the situation, but Joseph said that these men couldn’t “scare off an old setting hen.” (See HC 6:271–72.) Joseph’s source of information on this conspiracy seems to have been two young men, Dennison Harris and Robert Scott. When they were invited to the meeting of the conspirators, they went to Joseph and asked him what to do. Joseph advised them to go but sternly warned them against making any covenants with the conspirators. At the meeting, all in attendance were required to put a hand on a Bible and swear “before God and all holy angels” that they would not rest until Joseph Smith was destroyed. The boys refused to make the oath and were threatened with their lives. When they finally escaped, Joseph was waiting nearby. After hearing their report, he swore them to secrecy and made them promise they would not tell their story to anyone for at least twenty years, so as not to put their lives in jeopardy. (See Restoration, pp. 590–91.)
Chapter 38
The temperature during the morning of Saturday, April sixth, was pleasantly warm for this early in the month. With the mild winter and recent warm spells, spring had definitely come to Nauvoo. The fields and roadsides were a dozen different shades of green. Many of the trees were now in full leaf. Gardens were filled with the last of the tulips, and the crocus and hyacinth were gone now. Here and there, the brilliant splash of purple and white lilac bushes caught the eye.
They had assembled in a grove about a quarter mile east of the temple site, and the crowd was huge. As they waited for the meeting to begin, Joshua tried to get a rough estimate of how many were there, but finally gave it up. Thousands for sure. Most were seated on wooden benches, but some were in wagons and carriages and even on rocks. The Steeds weren’t right at the back, but about two-thirds of the people were in front of them. He knew that the family would have liked to sit closer to the front, but he did not want to and they stayed with him.
Through the crowds, Joshua caught a glimpse of the Higbee brothers but immediately turned his head so they wouldn’t see him. He didn’t see Foster at all and didn’t really look for him. He had come to see if they were right, if this would be the day that Joseph fell from leadership. That was all. He wanted nothing more.
At quarter past ten, Joseph and Hyrum Smith appeared and moved toward the raised platform that most of the Saints referred to simply as “the stand.” As soon as they were seated, Brigham Young stood up and in a loud voice called the congregation to order. He announced that their prophet would say a few words after the choir sang a hymn. When they were done, Joseph stood and moved slowly to the front part of the stand.
“He’s been sick, you know,” Benjamin whispered to Joshua.
“Oh?”
“Yes, quite ill. It takes a strong pair of lungs to speak to a group this size.”
He nodded without comment, then turned back to watch Joseph. Joshua was not familiar with how a conference worked, and so he wasn’t sure when Foster’s group would make their move.
“Brothers and sisters,” Joseph said, “how good it is to see you this morning. Before we have prayer, I would just like to say a word or two. Perhaps you have heard that it has been expected by some that the little petty difficulties which have existed in our city of late would be brought up and investigated before this conference. But this will not be the case,” he said firmly. “These things are of too trivial a nature to occupy the attention of so large a body. I intend to give you some instruction on the principles of eternal truth, but in consequence of the weakness of my lungs due to my recent illness I shall wait until later in the conference. The elders will give you instruction, and then, if necessary, I will offer such corrections as may be proper.”
Now his eyes swept across the congregation and his voice rose in volume, but he still spoke calmly. “Those who feel desirous of sowing the seeds of discord will be disappointed on this occasion. It is our purpose to build up and establish the principles of righteousness and not to break down and destroy.”
Joshua was watching intently now. He knows! Joseph knows what they’re up to and he’s
uncocking their pistol before they can even take it out of the holster. Say what you would about Joseph, he wasn’t stupid. This was a wiser strategy than going for an open confrontation. Simply get up and state that this was not a crisis, it was a petty thing. Trivial. Those were good words. Who could get up a revolution over something trivial?
“The great Jehovah has ever been with me, and the wisdom of God will direct me in the seventh hour. I feel in closer communion and better standing with God than ever I felt before in my life, and I am glad of this opportunity to appear in your midst. I thank God for the glorious day that he has given us. We shall now have Brother William W. Phelps give us an invocation, after which the choir will sing another hymn for us, and then we shall hear from President Sidney Rigdon.”
He sat down and there was a collective, inaudible sigh of
relief. The crowd had felt it too. They had come expecting trouble. Joseph had neatly sidestepped it by simply assuming there would be none.
When it became obvious that Sidney Rigdon was going to go on for as long as his lungs were capable, which seemed to be forever, and that nothing other than that was going to happen, Joshua whispered something to Caroline, then stood and slipped away. Nathan, sitting directly behind them, leaned forward. “He doesn’t like Sidney’s sermon?” he asked with a straight face.
There was a quick smile from Caroline as she shook her head. “I guess not.”
During the midday intermission, Joshua heard voices coming up the street and hurriedly went to the window. Now that the freight yard was east of town, he wasn’t too far from the temple site and he wondered if his family were coming to get him. He stood and walked to the window, then frowned deeply. Robert Foster and a man Joshua didn’t know were coming down the street. He looked around, considering locking the door and simply ignoring their knock, but then decided it was time to make a few things clear. He stepped out on the porch just as the two men arrived.
“Afternoon, Steed,” Foster said in surprise as Joshua came out on the step.
Joshua nodded.
“Joshua, this is Joseph H. Jackson. Jackson, meet Joshua Steed.”
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