The Work and the Glory (313 page)

He looked away and she wanted to cry.

“Joshua, this has nothing to do with my love for you. But I loved Donovan too, once. I don’t know if he would ever hear and accept the gospel. Religion was pretty much a surface thing with him. But if he does accept it, I want him to have this chance. I owe him that much.”

He started forward, the breath exploding out of him in total exasperation, but then he bit it back. On the day he had gone around with Joseph Smith and watched him heal the sick, Joshua Steed had come to a conclusion. He did not believe what Joseph believed. He wasn’t even sure he believed what he had witnessed that day. But there was something there that changed his feelings about Mormonism. It wasn’t for him, but now at least he understood to some degree the power it had over people.

He sighed. “And what about the children?”

“I won’t tell Livvy what to do. We’ve talked about it. In some ways she’d like to be a Mormon just because a lot of her cousins and friends are. I told her that’s not enough.”

He nodded, accepting that. “Do what you want, Caroline,” he finally said, more gruffly than he had intended.

Her eyes lowered. “I won’t do it if it’s going to come between us, Joshua.”

He sighed again, fighting back the sick feeling in his stomach. “You know how I feel.”

“Yes. And if you say no, I won’t.”

There was no mistaking the pain it cost her to say that. He watched her, his eyes hooded, his mind churning. “Caroline, you have been very good about not trying to make me act or believe in a certain way. I . . . I guess I’ll not be trying to do the same thing to you.”

It wasn’t all that she hoped for, but more than what she feared it might be. Relief and gratitude filled her eyes. “Thank you, Joshua.”

He nodded, then reached out and pulled the ledger book in front of him once more. He didn’t look up again as she stood and went into the bedroom, but just as she was disappearing down the hallway, he spoke her name. She stopped. He still wasn’t looking up.

“Carl and I have to go to St. Louis and meet with Samuelson on that new cotton crop he’s got coming in. Will you at least wait until I get back?”

She felt a little stab of disappointment, but could think of no compelling reason why she shouldn’t. “That’s fine,” she said.

“Thank you.” His head was still down as he worked on his figures.

Savannah came through the open door first, running as fast as her little legs could pump. Olivia was right behind her. “Mama! Mama! Papa and Uncle Carl are back!”

Caroline dropped the sewing onto the floor and stood up swiftly. “They are? Where?”

Olivia was puffing. “They stopped at the store to see Lydia and Nathan.”

Caroline brushed her apron down and unconsciously reached up to push her hair back. “Go tell Aunt Melissa. I’ll get the baby, then we’ll go on down to meet them.”

Joshua waited for her in the parlor, but Caroline delayed getting the baby down and giving Savannah one last good-night kiss. She had seen it in his eyes the moment they met outside the store and she dreaded having him put it in words. But one could delay the inevitable for only so long. She closed the door to Charles’s room quietly, then came down the hall and into the parlor where Joshua was waiting. She stopped just inside the room, watching him closely.

“Come sit down,” he said, forcing cheerfulness.

She shook her head. “I’m all right.”

He frowned slightly, then seemed to accept it. They were both silent for a moment. Small talk had been exhausted around the dinner table and afterwards.

“Samuelson inquired after you.”

“That’s nice. Did you give him my best?”

“I did.” Again the silence. Then he patted the sofa beside him. “You sure you don’t want to sit down?”

“I’m sure.” She took a breath. “What is it, Joshua?”

He wasn’t surprised. He couldn’t hide much from her. “Caroline? I . . .”

She waited.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this whole thing.”

“What whole thing is that?” The hurt and the disappointment were too sharp inside her for her to want to make it any easier for him.

“Your becoming a Mormon.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t tell you that you can’t,” he said, his words suddenly taking an edge that he didn’t intend. “I told you that. I won’t be forbidding it.”

“But?”

He took a quick breath. “But if you’re wanting to know what I think, I would prefer that you not be baptized.”

“Prefer?” she said, unaware that her fingers were digging into her palms. “Is that all? You would
prefer
that I don’t. Not
strongly
prefer? Not command?”

He shook his head, knowing he had run into a full-scale blizzard here. “That’s right. If you still want to, you can. But you asked me before how I felt about it. Well, I’ve thought about it, and I’d pre—  I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Not ever?”

He started a little, then saw the danger. “Just for now,” he said lamely.

She nodded, then turned and walked back into the hallway and down to their bedroom.

Chapter Notes

  Joseph Smith first formally introduced the doctrine of baptism for the dead while preaching at the funeral service for Seymour Brunson on 15 August 1840. There is no known contemporary text for the discourse, so details had to be provided by the author. However, from Joseph’s own comments about that day (see
HC
4:231) and from the report of one man who was there, the following items are known: (1) Joseph did read most of 1 Corinthians 15, which contains the reference to baptism for the dead. (2) He pointed to a widow in the audience whose son had died before the family had joined the Church. He then cited the Savior’s comments about the necessity of baptism (see John 3:5) and said the widow now had cause to rejoice for her son. (3) He noted that Paul was speaking to a people who understood the principle of baptism for the dead and practiced it. (4) He announced that the Saints could be baptized in behalf of those of their relatives and friends who they felt might receive the gospel in the spirit world. (5) He taught that the plan of salvation was calculated to save all who were willing to keep the requirements of God’s law. The man who reported this also described it as “a very beautiful discourse.” (See recollection of Simon Baker, in Joseph Smith,
The Words of Joseph Smith,
comp. and ed. Andrew F. Ehat and Lyndon W. Cook [Provo, Utah: Religious Studies Center, Brigham Young University, 1980], p. 49.)

  Emma Smith gave birth to a baby boy, whom they named Don Carlos after Joseph’s younger brother, on 13 June 1840. He was her seventh child, but only the fourth to live more than a few hours beyond birth.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sunday, 30 August 1840—London, England

My dear Jennifer Jo,

As you will note from the heading of this letter, I am now in the great city of London, having arrived here a week ago Tuesday last. I am no longer in company with Brigham Young, but have come to England’s capital by assignment with Heber C. Kimball, Wilford Woodruff, and George A. Smith. Derek remains behind in Manchester with Brother Brigham to help with the heavy load of running the Church here in England.

There is so much to tell you. I have waited until the Sabbath to write this letter so I have the time to say it all. First, I send my love to you and tell you how much I miss you. I often go to sleep with your face before me. Give my love to Mama and Papa. I will write to them next when there is time.

I shall tell you first about England in general, and London specifically. It is a wondrous place and has greatly expanded my views. It has also made me all the more thankful for America. The people here are wonderful, in some ways even more warm and giving than those in our country. But conditions are very much worse, especially for the working classes.

We took some time to visit the sights the other day. We went to Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, and Westminster Cathedral. As you know, Queen Victoria succeeded to the throne just three years ago when she was eighteen years of age. She was married in February of this year. She married her first cousin Prince Albert, who comes from one of the royal families on the continent. Derek says it was announced that she refused to wear anything at the ceremony that was not made in England. The people loved this, and she seems to be restoring a lot of pride among the people for their own country. We had not yet arrived in England by then, but Derek says the whole nation celebrated. She is very much revered by the people.

Anyway, I didn’t get to actually see her, but we saw the palace and surroundings. She is surrounded by all the elegance and pageantry of a Roman Caesar. It is almost more than the mind can take in. We saw one of the queen’s stables, and I swear, the places where the horses sleep are better than half the beds in London.

The difference in the classes here is shocking to me. The richest live in a manner that is almost impossible to imagine. They own about 80% of all the land in Great Britain and some have annual incomes of 5,000 pounds or more. That would be about 25,000 American dollars. I cannot conceive of such a fortune, but when I see their lavish houses I have to believe. Many own mansions in the city and in the country too.

But most of the people we see are called the “sunken sixth.” They are the lowest classes and make up about one-sixth of the people. As we walk the streets of London the contrast between the upper and lower classes is stark and leaves one wondering when Christ will come and set things right again. It is not uncommon to see half-naked, half-starving children running along behind the most splendid chariots, with their liveried footmen and the beautifully matched teams of horses. Beggars are everywhere. You cannot believe the numbers. I have also seen women and children scouring the streets for manure and old cigar butts, which they scoop up and sell by the bucketful to the tanneries. It is a grim way to make a living, but survival drives them to it. Many turn to crime or other vices. Pickpockets are a constant worry in London, and many women—even young girls—are forced into selling themselves away to wicked men who have no morals.

There are taxes of every kind. Brigham says that smoke cannot go up the chimney or light come through the window without someone here trying to tax it. There are taxes for living and taxes for dying. Many of the poor have a difficult time even burying their loved ones when they die. Brigham, who gets quite exercised on this subject, says it would be cheaper for a man to emigrate to America and find a grave there than it is to be buried in Merry Olde England. There is a tax on nearly everything, except perhaps cats, mice, and fleas.

They tell me when winter comes and the weather turns cold, the air becomes almost unbearable. There is a thick black smoke from the factories, the locomotives, the coal-burning stoves, fireplaces, and open fires. Sometimes the air is so thick with smoke that candles are lit at noonday so one can read. A neighbor says on those days he feels like a horse with the heaves. I look not forward to those times.

Well, I shall dwell no longer on such dismal scenes. I mention them only to give you a feeling for this place. The people are bright and cheerful, even in their poverty. And London has many wonderful things that we could use to good purpose in America. I must tell you about something that has come forth since our arrival. We have now, since May, what they call the “Penny Black.” It gets its name because it costs a penny and has a picture of Queen Victoria’s head drawn over a black background. (This is what you see stuck up in the corner of this page. I thought you might like to see an actual one.) But here is what is most marvelous. The Penny Black is a postage stamp and it has glue on the back of it. Yes, glue. Instead of taking your letter to the postal station and having the postmaster stamp it with the amount, you can just buy a Penny Black. Then when you are ready to mail it, you just lick the back of the stamp with your tongue—it tastes awful!—then stick it on the letter. Then you can just post it by dropping it in a postal box. This is a wonderful convenience, and I hope America someday gets the same idea.

Let me now tell you briefly about the work here. It is a marvelous thing to see what is happening in so short a time. Last month we had a conference in Manchester, which is the Church’s headquarters in England now. The Twelve are managing all the affairs here in Great Britain and it is helping immensely. At the conference, it was reported that in England there are now forty-one congregations or branches of the Church, with a total membership of 2,513. Almost 850 Saints have been added since the April conference in Preston, so you can see the work progresses with great success.

On the day of the conference, Parley Pratt received some bad news. He received a letter from his wife in New York City saying that she was ill and too sick to come to England to join him. This was a great blow to him, as he was expecting her arrival at any time. As I told you before, Parley plans to remain in England for several years and was anxious that Mary Ann and his children join him. He was so distraught at the news that the Quorum approved his returning to New York to get her. He left on the next available ship, and we hope to see him before winter sets in again.

Some good news especially for you. Just a few weeks ago, Brother John Taylor and two other brothers sailed for Ireland. They say that one out of every seven people in Liverpool is Irish, so it is not surprising that some of his converts were from your mother country. They persuaded him to go to the Emerald Isle and open the work there. They have already had baptisms. Oh, that your mother might have lived long enough to hear that news!

We spent three weeks in the Staffordshire Potteries and in Herefordshire on the way down here to London. The work started in both those places by Wilford Woodruff continues forward in a miraculous way. In Herefordshire, on one Sunday we baptized forty people. Since we left Manchester in the middle of July, an additional 250 have joined themselves to the kingdom. What is most gratifying is to know that most of those converted by Wilford’s earlier labors are still true and faithful. That is especially true of John and Jane Benbow. The Benbows lent Brigham 250 English pounds to help print the Book of Mormon. They are also paying for the passage to America of more than three dozen people. They are very generous in helping the work.