Leave Kirtland.--Grand Entertainment.--A noble Woman.--Lorenzo drives
one Team.--He is very Sick.--Arrive in Far West, Missouri.--Elder
Rigdon's Kindness.--Dr. Avord's Meanness.--His Nurse, Nightwatcher
and Doctor.--An Incident.--Arrive in Adam-ondi-Ahman.--Lorenzo takes
his Gun and goes out to Hunt.--A new Train of Reflections.--Hunting
for Sport.--The old Settlers.--Their Antagonism.--Preparation for
Defense.--False Alarm explained.
Towards the last of April, 1838, our father left Kirtland with
twenty-one souls in company, to wit: his own family, consisting of his
wife, two daughters, three sons, and two grand-daughters, children of
our eldest sister who was at this time a widow; Brother Huntington and
family; Brother James Moses and family; Brother Pearce and family,
and Julian Moses, brother to James. We started with horse and ox teams,
my brother Lorenzo having charge of one of our father's teams, which he
drove until about one hundred miles from Far West, Missouri, when he
was taken very sick with bilious fever.
On our first night out from Kirtland, our whole company stopped,
in accordance with a previous pressing invitation, with one of our
father's sisters, Mrs. Charlotte S. Granger. Had we been a bridal
party we could not have been treated with more respect, or served more
bountifully, although we were "Mormons" and she a popular Presbyterian.
She was too noble minded to be a bigot. She and her husband are dead.
Lorenzo has been baptized for her husband--I for her, and we have had
the sealing ordinances performed in their behalf.
Our journey from Kirtland to Far West was rendered tedious in
consequence of rainy weather. We arrived in Far West on the sixteenth
of July, with my brother very sick in bed. For nearly one hundred miles
he suffered such a racking pain in his head that when we traveled I
held it as steady as possible to prevent excruciating suffering being
produced by the motion of the wagon. On our arrival in Far West, Elder
Rigdon met us and requested our father to take my sick brother to his
house, which was gratefully accepted, and I was to stop with him, as
Adam-ondi-Ahman, thirty miles distant, was father's destination; and
as he had considerable stock which he could not keep in Far West, he
started out the next morning, to return for us when Lorenzo should have
so far recovered as to be able to ride that distance. Dr. Avord, who
afterwards made himself notorious as an unscrupulous apostate, spent
most of his time sitting under an awning in front of Elder Rigdon's
house, and as I was under the necessity of obtaining some medicine for
my brother, as a matter of convenience I applied to him, at the same
time endeavoring to make him understand that it was the medicine
I wanted, and not his medical attendance; but come he would, and
continued to come. My brother grew worse--the fever increased until he
became quite delirious, and I determined to get rid of Avord, and to
accomplish this desirable yet disagreeable task, I asked him for his
bill as kindly and politely as possible. The idea struck him at once
that this request signified non-attendance, and he was very angry and
tried to frighten me concerning my brother's condition, by telling me
that his skill was needed more then than when he first saw the patient.
I tried to be as pacific as possible, but thought that this concession
did not recommend him to further attendance. However, when the doctor
found me unyielding, he presented his bill, and although sitting in
front of the house day after day, he neither called in to see nor
inquire after the sick man. I realized that the family of Elder Rigdon,
himself included, at that time had more faith in medical treatment
than in the healing ordinances, and they all thought me to blame
for discharging the physician. But my trust was in God, the prayer
of faith, and good, sisterly nursing. As soon as the fever abated,
my brother's consciousness returned, and in two weeks from the time
father left us he was sufficiently restored, was sent for, and we took
a pleasant wagon ride to Adam-ondi-Ahman, Daviess County, although my
brother had to ride on a bed.
I will here mention one little incident with which convalescents, many
of them, will sympathize. As his fever began to break, my brother tried
to think of something he could relish, and his memory went back to
college associations and college scenes, and to one college _dish_. At
one time while attending college, he and three of his fellow students
took it into their heads to try the novelty of bachelor boarding, each
taking his turn in the cooking department. One particular dish, which
at that time was relished very exquisitely, now haunted my brother's
recollection--if he had a dish precisely like that he felt certain he
could eat. His sister at that time, was his only nurse and night
watcher, for the people of the house were so displeased with me for
discharging the doctor that they were but little disposed to assist,
and I was as little disposed to trouble them, although in every other
respect they were hospitable and kind, and in fact for years had been
quite partial to our family. But the dish; it must be precisely after
the pattern, and could I do it? Certainly; for "what has been done can
be done," and I am not afraid to try. The ingredients, as he named
them, were all at my command, and, after listening anxiously to his
description, I went to work and a dish was produced, but alas! it
was not THE dish--"it did not _taste_ like the bachelor dish." Try,
try again, was my motto, and after listening attentively to a more
critical description, I went at it again, and although that effort
was a pronounced improvement on the first, it was not quite up to the
original, but the third time trying proved a success--not so much from
improvement in the skill of the cook as improvement in the appetite of
the patient.
The following is copied from his journal: In Adam-ondi-Ahman, while
gradually recovering from the effects of a malignant fever which had
detained me a fortnight in Far West, under the constant and skilful
nursing of my sister Eliza, for some time I was unable to either do, or
read much. One day, to while away the slowly passing hours, I took my
gun with the intention of indulging in a little amusement in hunting
turkeys, with which that section of the country abounded. From boyhood
I had been particularly, and I may say strangely attached to a gun.
Hunting, in the forests of Ohio, was a pastime that to me possessed the
most fascinating attractions. It never occurred to my mind that it was
wrong--that indulging in "what was sport to me was death to them;" that
in shooting turkeys, squirrels, etc., I was taking life that I could
not give; therefore I indulged in the murderous sport without the least
compunction of conscience.
But at this time a change came over me. While moving slowly
forward in pursuit of something to kill, my mind was arrested with
the reflection on the nature of my pursuit--that of amusing myself by
giving pain and death to harmless, innocent creatures that perhaps had
as much right to life and enjoyment as myself. I realized that such
indulgence was without any justification, and feeling condemned, I
laid my gun on my shoulder, returned home, and from that time to this
have felt no inclination for that murderous amusement. In fact, years
had elapsed since the days of boyhood sport, and in the interval I
had neither time nor opportunity for reckless indulgence. Education,
the leading star of my youth, had so entirely engrossed my ambition
that, until the Gospel of the Lord Jesus took possession of my mind,
it was the genii before which everything else had to bow; then, almost
simultaneously, missionary labors succeeded book studies, and no room
was left for sportive scenes.
A spirit of mobocracy, which had previously manifested itself, was
continually on the increase all around us, and very naturally suggested
to our minds the thought of preparation for defense. The house we
lived in, with the plantation on which it stood, father purchased on
his arrival, and paid for in full. It was a "double log house," with
an alley about three feet wide between the two. In this alley our
faithful watchdog was stationed, and we knew that no intruder could
possibly reach either door before the dog would give an alarm, which,
so far, was very satisfactory. But, to our deep regret, the mobocrats,
finding the dog out of sight of the house, shot him down. He had, by
his affectionate faithfulness, so won our love and confidence that he
almost seemed one of the family--we sincerely mourned his loss, and I
assisted my brothers in giving him a formal burial.
Amid the threatenings of mobocrats to either drive or destroy us, a
circumstance occurred, which, though seriously exciting at the time,
afterwards afforded us much amusement. One night at about 11 o'clock,
we all were suddenly aroused from sleep by the discharge of fire
arms, accompanied with loud shouts, apparently about a mile distant.
We supposed that our enemies had commenced their depredations by
putting their threats into execution, and were making an attack on
our people, and the probability was that they would visit us in turn.
We immediately began to prepare for defense by barricading the doors
and windows, and distributing among all the members of the family
such weapons for protection as were available, viz: one sword, two or
three guns, pitchforks, axes, shovels and tongs, etc. We proposed that
mother take her choice, and she thought that she could do the best
execution with the shovel. With no small degree of anxiety, not only
for ourselves, but also in behalf of our friends situated at the point
from which the exciting sounds proceeded, we kept up a sleepless watch
until morning, when intelligence was brought, explaining the cause of
the night alarm, as follows: A company of our brethren had been to a
distant settlement to accomplish some business requisite in consequence
of threatened mob violence, and on their return, having peacefully and
successfully accomplished their object, discharged their fire arms,
accompanied with a shout expressive of their happy success--resulting
in our false alarm and subsequent amusement.