Praise for the Elders.--Efforts to Bring Two Natives to Utah.--Sail for
Home.--Description of Steerage.--An Earnest Prayer.--Timidity of the
Saints.--Baptize a New Convert at Midnight.
November 22, 1857. The day was beautiful, perhaps because my heart
felt to rejoice; for I had been truly blest during my sojourn on these
islands. I attended meeting and listened to remarks by Elders Bigler,
Woodbury, Bell, and Cluff. I loved Brother Bigler for his wisdom and
humility; Brother Woodbury for his loyalty to the Church, and for his
eloquence in preaching in Kanaka. Truly his speaking was a gift, and
came not by his own wisdom.
I spoke on the nature of opposition. Herod sought to kill Jesus
Christ, because Christ came with power to organize and establish God's
kingdom upon the earth. The Jews persecuted him because they feared,
"lest all the world would go after him, and they would lose their
place and nation." And so it was with the Christians when the Prophet
Joseph came; they feared him, for he had more powder, wisdom, and
godliness than all of them. They do not hate us personally; but they
are determined to resist the truth, and overthrow the kingdom. Their
inspiration comes from Satan.
The following is from my journal of Friday, November 27, 1857:
"We are anxious to take two native elders home with us; but their laws
forbid their emigrating without a government permit. For this reason
Elders Bigler, Woodbury, and I waited on his excellency, Governor
Kekuanaao. He is a large, robust, fine-looking, elderly man; and like
all Hawaiians, he is fond of ease and good living.
"We apprised him of our desires and asked his permission for two of our
Hawaiian brethren to go home with us. He was quite ignorant of the law
on this matter, but said he would consult Prince Lot, and if there were
no objections he would grant our request. We called next on his royal
highness, Prince Lot, and found him clad in rich Chinese costume. He is
above the medium height, strong, well-built, about twenty-five years of
age, kind and courteous in manner, and speaks good English.
"On December 2, 1857, the government informed us that they declined to
let the native brethren go with us.
"Monday, December 7th. For thirty dollars I secured steerage passage on
the bark Yankee, to San Francisco. I had ten dollars left, and having
sold my only coat for ten dollars, left the twenty dollars with Elder
Bigler to give to my brother Franklin W. who was still on Hawaii.
"Wednesday, December 9, 1857, Elders Sextus E. Johnson, William King,
Eli Bell, William W. Cluff, Smith B. Thurston, John A. West, Simpson
M. Molen, George Speirs, and John R. Young sailed for home on the bark
Yankee. The treatment we received was anything but courteous, and so
the following doggerel verses fairly illustrate our feelings:
"The wealthy gent may think I'm wrong
In writing this poor, uncouth song.
But those who share my humble berth
Will count my theme of greater worth.
Perhaps you all who've crossed the sea
Have, of the mfamous bark Yankee,
Heard much of good, by fiction told.
But now the truth I will unfold.
Poverty, I know, is oft despised
By those who think they're rich and wise.
But oft in modest birth we'll find
Men of sense, and noble mind.
"Excuse sufficient this must be,
True worth needs no apology.
You to our steerage I'll invite,
Where you shall see a motley sight.
For here we sit 'mong ropes and rags,
Spars, chicken coops, and dirty bags,
Turkeys, sheep, and guinea hens,
With Johnny Ching Ching,--all in one pen--
A pen some folks a steerage call,
With ample room to hold us all.
"From morn till night we sit around,
Like gypsies camping on the ground.
Some of us talk, and others sing,
While some are busy scrimshawing.
Some of politics are talking,
Others on the decks are walking,
And with the dogs ofttimes are playing,
But pause to hear some witty saying.
Below sits Caesar with open hymn-book
Seeking grace with a pious look;
While carpenter and mate with hammer,
Do their best to make a clamor.
"Hark! now the bell for dinner rings,
And each one for the hatchway springs.
'Old Salt horse again' half-raw,
To chew would need an iron jaw.
'Look here, cook, this meat's not done.'
'Boiled three hours,' cries Afric's son.
'But if you do not like the meat,
There's murphies plus sea bread to eat.
You can't complain, for as the crew
Are treated by us, so are you.'
These are the words of Captain Bob,
Who thinks no harm poor men to rob.
For robber it is, in every sense,
To treat men thus, to save expense.
"Now for our hammocks let us look;
Search your corner--scan each nook.
Vain the search. From hatch to hatch
The Yankee's steerage has no match.
On ropes and barrels men must lie,
Thankful to get a little hay.
For forty dollars per head we've got
A passage minus bed or cot.
Filled with barrels, ropes and sails,
Where light o'er darkenss [sic] ne'er prevails.
Here men are classed with brutish dogs,
And treated worse than farmer's hogs.
"Such odious scenes you can't admire,
So from the steerage let's retire.
But when again we go to sea
'Twill not be in the bark Yankee.
To you, dear friends, I'll say goodbye--
For supper time is drawing nigh--
And welcome are the hours of night
That from my view will hide the sight
Of filth and dirt, and drive away
The thoughts that haunt me all the day.
"Saturday, December 26, 1857. This morning land could be seen from the
mast head. At ten a.m. it could be seen from deck. At noon we hove in
sight of the Golden Gate, and soon sailed into the beautiful bay of
Frisco.
"But now the wind died, and we were left without a breath of air. The
sailors whistled, but the sails flapped lazily, and the ship moved not.
The day slipped away, the moon rose in all its splendor, the night was
beautiful, and there lay the city with her thousand sparkling lamps.
Oh, how I longed to be on shore, to tread American soil once more, to
walk on my native land the land of my fathers, where I should be glad
to dwell in peace.
"But alas, that boon is denied me. Even now the camp fires are kindled
by a strong, and well-disciplined army sent by a corrupt government to
rob my parents, kindred, and people, of the sacred rights bequeathed
them by their noble sires who fought and bled, to win the freedom and
justice that England refused to grant. And yet this same nation, that
became thus, under the blessing of God, a home for the free, and an
asylum for the oppressed has now turned to be an oppressor!
"O, God, hear my prayer. For Thou knowest the integrity of my heart.
I have returned from the mission Thou gavest me through Thy servant,
to find Thy covenant people denied their rights; falsely accused, and
persecuted without cause; therefore, I pray Thee, do Thou guard and
protect them. Deliver them. Father, from all their enemies. Let the
armies of the oppressor go backwards and not forward! Let the fierce
storms and tempests of the mountains block their way. May contentions
arise among them, and union be far from them, until they turn to
righteousness and abide by the Constitution which Thou didst give by
inspiration to our fathers. I ask it in the name of Jesus Christ, Thy
Son. Amen."
On Sunday, December 27, 1857, I attended meeting in the home of Brother
Dwight Eveleth, President of the San Francisco branch. The local Saints
were afraid to sing, or talk aloud in our meetings, for fear of being
heard upon the street. But I felt like shouting Hosannah, and I would
not be restrained. Attracted by my voice, several strangers called in.
After meeting, I walked down to the bay and baptized Elijah E. Warren,
a young man from Santa Clara.