The Work and the Glory (58 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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Newel Knight, son of Joseph Knight, Sr.

Josiah McBride, Lydia’s father.

Hannah Lovina Hurlburt McBride, Lydia’s mother.

*
Parley P. Pratt, a farmer from Ohio.
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Sidney Rigdon, a preacher from Mentor, Ohio, area.

Carlton Rogers, a livery stable operator in Kirtland.

Clinton Roundy, Jessica’s father; a saloon owner in Independence, Missouri.

*
Peter Whitmer, Sr., and family, a family from Fayette, New York.
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Newel K. Whitney, store owner in Kirtland, Ohio.
*
Brigham Young, an early convert from Mendon, New York, area.

Though too numerous to list, there are many other characters drawn from the pages of history who are mentioned by name in this book. Thus, actual names used by Joseph Smith or other contemporary sources in their historical accounts will be found here. For example, the Joshua Lewis family in Kaw Township, Edward Partridge, Sidney Gilbert, Sylvester Smith, W. W. Phelps, and dozens of others mentioned in the book, including many of the Missourians, were actual people who lived and participated in the events depicted in this work.

*
Designates actual people from Church history.

The Benjamin Steed Family

Like a Fire is Burning

The Spirit of God like a fire is burning!

The latter-day glory begins to come forth;

The visions and blessings of old are returning,
The angels are coming to visit the earth.

We’ll sing and we’ll shout with the armies of heaven—
Hosanna, hosanna to God and the Lamb!

Let glory to them in the highest be given,
Henceforth and forever: amen and amen!

—William W. Phelps

Chapter One

Oh, Lydia, you look so beautiful!”

“Do you really think so?” Lydia McBride turned slowly in front of the long mirror, examining herself with a critical eye.

Melissa Steed didn’t hesitate a moment. “Nathan is going to be thunderstruck.” She laughed merrily. “I bet he’ll just stand there and stare and stare.”

Lydia smiled. “I would like that.”

She wore the carriage dress her mother had bought special for her when her parents had gone to New York City earlier in the spring. It was the latest design, and more important, this was the first time she had worn it. It had a high collar fastened at the throat with a bow. The bodice was tightly fitted and slightly lengthened, which emphasized even more the slimness of her waist. The sleeves were leg-o’-mutton sleeves, full to the elbow, then fitted to the wrist. The skirt was full but without the elaborate decorations that had been popular a few years earlier. Two large bows matching the smaller one at the neck were attached about mid-thigh and were the only embellishment. The dress was a light powder blue, the belt and the bows a light pink. The effect was simple but elegant, and it complemented Lydia’s fair skin and long black hair to perfection.

Finally satisfied, Lydia turned, and threw her arms around the girl who, before the afternoon was out, would be her sister-in-law. “Thank you, Melissa.”

Mary Ann Steed, Melissa’s mother, came hurrying back into the room, twelve-year-old Rebecca right behind her. Mary Ann carried a needle and thread, Becca an armful of tulips, daffodils, and hyacinth from her mother’s garden. A wet cloth had been carefully wrapped around the stems to keep the flowers fresh until the wedding.

“Oh, Becca, those are lovely!”

Becca blushed with pleasure, the dimples in her cheeks deepening instantly as she smiled.

“Those are perfect,” Melissa agreed.

Becca looked up, the blue eyes dancing with excitement. “So where do I stand, Mama?”

Mary Ann moved around behind Lydia, found the spot where a small part of the hem of the skirt had pulled out, then began to stitch it back up. “You’ll follow right behind Lydia. When Joseph is ready to start the actual marriage ceremony, you step forward and take the flowers from Lydia’s arms.”

There was a soft knock at the door. “Lydia?” It was Nathan’s voice.

“Just a minute,” Mary Ann whispered. “I’m almost done.”

Melissa grabbed the hairbrush from the chest of drawers and handed it to Lydia.

“Don’t come in. Just a minute.” Lydia felt a little nervous flutter in her stomach as she began to brush her hair in long strokes. Today was her wedding day, and this was the man she loved more fiercely than she ever dreamed possible.

Mary Ann finished and stood up. She fussed at the back of the skirt for a moment, then stepped back. “All right.”

Lydia handed her the brush as Melissa moved to the door and with a flourish opened it wide.

“Lydia, your—” He stopped, his mouth dropping open.

Melissa clapped her hands in delight. “I told you, Lydia,” she cried. “I told you.”

Nathan moved forward slowly, his eyes wide and filled with wonder. He took her hands. “You’re beautiful, Lydia.”

She did a little curtsy. “Why, thank you, Mr. Steed.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so happy, Nathan,” she whispered.

With that, his face fell.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Your father is here.”

Lydia nodded, then stopped. “Not Mama?”

Nathan shook his head. “No, just your father.” He took a quick breath, holding her hands more firmly. His mouth was tight, his eyes grim. “He’s got a magistrate with him. He says he’s going to stop the wedding.”

One hand jerked free and flew to her mouth.
“What?”

“You’d better come downstairs.”

Josiah McBride was a short man, no more than about five foot seven or eight, and he was slight of build. Now, as he stood face-to-face with Joseph Smith, who was over six feet tall, he looked like a bantam rooster sidling up to confront an opponent twice his size.

The room was nearly filled with people. Joseph’s wife, Emma, stood with Martin Harris and Hyrum Smith and his wife, Jerusha. Several of Lydia’s friends from town were sitting around the table. Lydia’s aunt and uncle, who lived a mile or so south of Palmyra Village, were also there. Benjamin Steed, Nathan’s father, stood behind Joseph and McBride, his nine-year-old son, Matthew, at his side. A tall man, obviously the magistrate, stood just behind McBride, looking awkward and very uncomfortable.

As Lydia and Nathan came down the stairs—Melissa, Mary Ann, and Rebecca right behind them—Lydia’s father whirled around. “There you are. I was beginning to think these people were hiding you.”

“Papa!” Lydia came across quickly to him, but he stepped back, as though she were unclean. She stopped. “Where’s Mama? Mama said she was coming.”

“Your mother stayed home. There’s not going to be any wedding today.”

“Mr. McBride—,” the officer began, but Lydia’s Aunt Bea cut him off.

“Josiah McBride,” she said, her eyes spitting fire, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself, ruining this girl’s wedding day like this.”

He swung around, his face livid. “Bea, you keep out of this. This is none of your affair.”

Lydia’s Aunt Bea was an older sister to Lydia’s mother, and was Lydia’s favorite aunt. Unlike Hannah McBride she was gentle in nature, down to earth, caring little for the fancier things that the McBrides were amassing. She and her husband had only boys, and she and Lydia had developed a strong bond from the time Lydia was a tiny girl. She raised up now to her full height, which was still considerably shorter than her brother-in-law’s, and looked him in the eyes, lower jaw jutted out. “This
is
my affair. I seem to be the only family Lydia has at the moment, and I’ll not have you—”

“Please!” the magistrate bellowed. It shocked both Aunt Bea and Lydia’s father into silence. “All right,” he went on in a more subdued tone. “Mr. McBride, if you’ll let me handle things, I’ll see if we can get to the bottom of this.”

He turned to Joseph, who stood quietly, his face composed, his demeanor mild and affable. “Are you Mr. Joseph Smith?”

“I am, sir.”

“And is it you who plans to perform this marriage today?”

“It is, sir.”

He turned his head slightly. “Mr. McBride here says you have no legal standing as a minister and therefore are in violation of the law if you try to unite this couple.”

“That’s right,” McBride started, “this man is a fraud and a—”

The constable gave him such a look that he instantly stopped. Turning back to Joseph, the officer asked, “Mr. Smith, how do you answer these charges?”

“I deny them,” Joseph said affably. “Our church was organized a week ago, on the sixth of this month. We met all the legal requirements for the state of New York. We have filed the papers in Fayette, Seneca County.”

“That’s a lie!”

The magistrate swung around, really angry now. “Mr. McBride, if you say another word I shall eject you from this room until I have completed my investigation.”

Lydia’s father’s eyes bulged in surprise. He opened his mouth; then, spluttering, turned and stomped across the room.

Joseph managed to restrain a smile. “Our church is a legal entity now, officer, and I am an ordained minister in that church. Does that not give me legal right to perform a marriage?”

“Yes, if what you say is true. Do you have any evidence to support your claims?”

Mary Ann stepped forward. “I was present in Fayette on the day the Church was organized. I can attest to you that all was done in order as Mr. Smith has said.”

Nathan moved forward to stand by Lydia. “I too was there. What my mother says is true. And Mr. Smith is the leader of that church, which makes him a legal minister.”

The officer considered that for a moment, then nodded. He turned toward Lydia’s father, who was fuming silently near the window. “Mr. McBride, I am afraid you have brought me out here on false pretenses.”

“This is all poppycock. This man is a charlatan. His so-called church is a fraud of the greatest magnitude.”

“The truthfulness of one religion versus another does not come under my jurisdiction,” the magistrate said dryly. “That is a matter for another court.”

“She’s my daughter!” McBride screamed, leaping forward to jab a finger in Nathan’s direction. “I forbid her marriage to this...this...” No word in his vocabulary seemed adequate.

Lydia was staring at the floor, her fists clenched, her lower lip trembling. Aunt Bea stepped forward and took her hand. “This girl is of age, officer. I’m her aunt. I can testify to that.”

The magistrate looked at Lydia, his eyes kind. “How old are you, child?”

“Twenty.”

He turned to McBride, his voice suddenly cold. “I don’t appreciate the way you have misled me, Mr. McBride.” He turned to Joseph Smith. “My apologies, sir. You may proceed.”

To Nathan’s surprise, his father moved from his place to face the officer. Benjamin Steed didn’t like the idea of Nathan marrying Lydia McBride either. He had made his feelings clear on more than one occasion in the last few days since Lydia had shown up on Nathan’s doorstep, thrust out by her father for believing in the Book of Mormon and deciding to become a follower of Joseph Smith. Lydia was the pampered, only daughter of one of Palmyra’s leading citizens; Nathan, the son of a rough-cut frontier family. “It ain’t smart,” he had grumbled, “to put a thoroughbred and a mule in the same harness.” So what he said next came as a great shock to his whole family.

“Sir,” he said to the officer.

“Yes?”

“Is trespassing a punishable offense?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I am the owner of this house and the land on which it sits. I consider Mr. McBride to be trespassing on my property. If he does not leave immediately I would like to press charges against him.”

The officer was startled for a moment, then smiled. “I think that is a reasonable request, Mr. Steed.”

“What?” spluttered McBride. “How dare you!”

Taking a step toward him, the magistrate lowered his voice and spoke determinedly. “I have a fair and reasonable request from this gentleman, Mr. McBride. Are you going to comply, or must I remove you by force?”

McBride stood there for another moment, jaw working, his face mottled with rage. Then he spun on his heel and went out, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle. The constable tipped his hat, and followed after him.

For a moment the room was silent; then softly, Lydia began to sob. Nathan stood there for a moment, awkwardly, not sure what to do, but Lydia’s Aunt Bea just gathered her up in her arms. “There, now,” she soothed, “don’t let him be spoilin’ the finest day of your life, Lydia. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Joseph stood with his back to the big stone fireplace, Nathan and Lydia facing him. Melissa, as maid of honor, stood next to Lydia, whose arms were filled with flowers from Mary Ann’s garden. Nathan had his father standing next to him. Becca stood just behind Melissa and Lydia, watching Joseph carefully. She was appointed as flower girl and would take the flowers from Lydia when the signal was given.

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