Wants to go on Mission.--Elder Butterfield wishes to accompany
him.--They go.--Arrive in Far West on the second day.--Father
Smith blesses Lorenzo.--Blindness of Thomas B. Marsh.--Leave Far
West.--Meet a camp of Brethren at the Missouri River.--Construct a
craft.--Started in snow storm down the river.--Perilous times.--Narrow
escapes.--A savage band.--Make their escape.--Find camping place in
peace.--Leave the boat and travel on foot.--Get lodging at the house
of a Mobocrat.--Mobocratic narrative.--A Campbellite Preacher's
Politeness.--Courtesy of a Methodist Preacher.--A crowded house.--A
Donation just in time.--Saved from a Mob by his pocket Bible.--Other
Mobocrats foiled.
The journal speaks: About the first of October of this year (1838),
the spirit of my missionary calling pressed so heavily upon my mind,
that I longed to engage in its labors. Elder Abel Butterfield, who
had accompanied me on a mission in Ohio, proposed to be my traveling
companion at this time, and although not having yet fully recovered
from the effects of my summer sickness, and had not strength sufficient
to endure much fatigue, I felt that I must go. My father and others
thought it not prudent, but my trust was in God, and I felt an
assurance that He would give me strength and restore me to soundness
of health sooner if I went forth depending on Him, than if I remained
at home. Accordingly, with the necessary books and a few underclothes
packed in my valise, I bid adieu to father, mother, brothers and
sisters, and, with Brother Butterfield, started forth to proclaim the
word of the Lord to those who had ears to hear. At first I could only
walk a short distance before I was compelled to sit down and rest, but
my ability to walk gradually increased until I was perfectly restored.
The second day after we started, we arrived in Far West, where we
stopped a short time to visit our friends. Father Smith, the Patriarch,
gave us his blessing and much good fatherly counsel, and expressed much
sympathy for us in connection with our mission through the southern
part of Missouri, the immediate field of our prospective labors. At
that time the excitement against the Latter-day Saints had been fanned
to fever heat in every part of the State, consequently it was more than
probable that we should meet with abuse and have to submit to many
hardships.
In going the rounds in Far West, we called on Elder Thomas B. Marsh,
then President of the Quorum of the Twelve. I think at that time he
was indulging a spirit of apostacy, which, not long after, culminated
in his severance from the Church. In our conversation with him, our
spirits and his did not intermingle, and he seemed utterly blind in
relation to the condition of things and the spirit of the times. He
expressed unbounded charity for our enemies--said he did not think they
intended us much harm--they were not naturally inclined to wickedness,
etc. It is a noticeable feature in those who cherish a spirit of
apostacy from the light of the Gospel, that they adopt the doctrine of
Universalism and think none too wicked for a complete and unconditional
salvation.
On leaving Far West, we directed our course to the Missouri River,
where we found a camp of our brethren, some of whom were intending
to go down the river and return to their homes, somewhere in the
southern part of the State. We joined together in constructing a kind
of water-craft--it was not a canoe, neither a skiff or raft, and
to name it a boat would be preposterous; but, whatever its proper
cognomen, its capacity was sufficient to accommodate five men, and, on
the seventeenth of October, in the midst of a heavy fall of snow, we
launched it, and started on a most perilous passage down the turbid
waters of a turbulent river. At that season of the year the stream
was very low, and frequently through the day we experienced much
difficulty in following the channel. We took turns in rowing, and, as
night approached, we began in sober earnest to look out for a suitable
landing, but were forced to continue on until it was quite dark, when
we were every moment in danger of being upset by "sawyers," for we
could hardly discern them in time to shun them. Those "sawyers" were
trees or parts of trees--one end firmly embedded in the bottom of the
stream, while the other end, by the motion and pressure of the current,
was constantly vaccillating up and down, often swiftly and powerfully.
We met with several narrow escapes, and anxiously watched for a place
of landing. At length we espied upon the bank a bright light, to which
we directed our course, and, much to our relief, were enabled to bring
our little bark safely to land, and after securing it, we climbed
up the bank, and directly found ourselves in the presence of rough,
savage looking fellows, who told us they were hunters and trappers; but
their appearance and conversation, and the whisperings of the Spirit,
impressed us at once with the feeling that there was more safety on
the river, searching our way amid the threatening "sawyers," than in
remaining through the night in such forbidding company. Accordingly we
again embarked, and pushed into the fluctuating stream. It was very
dark, and as we cautiously wended our way, our ears were ever and anon
saluted with the fearful sounds of the dashing "sawyers" ahead. It was
prudent to keep as close to the bank as possible, in order to avail
ourselves of the first opportunity to secure a landing.
We had one man at the bow to watch for "sawyers," while the others
kept a vigilant look out for a place to haul up. The dense darkness of
the stormy night prevented us discovering danger until we were on the
point of being enveloped in it, and in several instances, our escape
seemed truly miraculous. At last our perilous night voyage terminated,
having drifted into a swift current which fortunately forced us upon
a low place in the bank, covered with willows, briers and thorns,
through which, after having fastened our bark, we made our way, and
soon reached a very welcome camping ground, in the midst of a thick
grove of small timber. We were not long in starting a rousing fire,
and having taken from our little bark the provision we brought along,
we did justice to a hearty meal, while the gratitude of our hearts
arose in evening incense to Him, the Giver of all good, to whom we
ascribed our safe deliverance. After vocally and unitedly returning
thanks to Him for His miraculous providence in preserving us from the
perils of the night, we spread our blankets, couched down and enjoyed
refreshing sleep, with occasional interruptions by the wonderful clamor
of seemingly thousands upon thousands of wild geese, which had gathered
upon an island in the river, a short distance from our camp.
The following morning we were struck with astonishment, as we viewed,
by the light of day, the river below us thickly dotted with sand-bars
and bristling "sawyers," there being, apparently, no possible chance
of having proceeded one dozen yards farther without steering nearly
a direct course to the opposite bank of the stream, which, with our
ignorance of the circumstances, and the darkness of the night, would
naturally have resulted very disastrously.
After this brief but impressive experience in the labors and dangers in
traveling on this celebrated river, we concluded to abandon our boat
and proceed on foot. In carrying out this programme, the first night
after leaving the river, we called at a gentleman's house and asked
for a night's lodging, without making ourselves known as "Mormons."
We were very kindly entertained by our host, whom we soon discovered
was a bitter mobocrat, and had acted the part of leader of a mob in
raiding one of our settlements. He was very wealthy, and had with him,
as guest, a rich southern planter, who told us that he, as neutral,
accompanied his friend, the captain of the mob above mentioned, and he
narrated the particulars of the fight, and its termination. He said
that the two parties met and fought with desperation. He sheltered
himself behind a large tree which was struck by "Mormon" bullets,
several times. At length a parley was held, and a council between
the leaders of the parties, in which the "Mormons" agreed to abandon
their location. Our host and his friend said they justified the manner
in which they were expelling the "Mormons," only on the ground that
they were mostly Yankees, and opposed to slavery, and they feared
that by settling in the State, the interest of the inhabitants, as
slave-holders, would be infringed upon. We all listened with respectful
attention, but those gentlemen little thought who composed their
audience, and they knew not our thoughts and the feelings of our hearts.
The next day we parted with our brethren who came down the river
with us, Brother Butterfield and I traveling together and holding
neighborhood meetings. We made the acquaintance of a Campbellite
preacher, who became so much interested with the principles we taught,
that he invited us to attend his conference, and I had a very enjoyable
time in preaching to his congregation. But opportunities for preaching,
in that time of excitement and belligerent feeling toward our people,
did not often come when unsought, and very frequently not then. The
many false reports in circulation against us were so exasperating the
feelings of the people in that section, that the spirit of mobocracy
was everywhere manifesting itself; in many instances it really assumed
the appearance of a species of insanity. Our main object was, by
giving correct information, to disabuse the minds of those we gained
access to, and allay the feverish sentiment of bitterness. Whenever
we succeeded in securing the attention of people, to listen to our
testimonies, we were pretty sure of their confidence. We held meetings
in several places where we were threatened, and in one instance
preached to a congregation in which were those who had come expressly
to mob us, but on seeing and hearing us, had changed their minds, and
at the close of the meeting, came and made their acknowledgments.
Finding, after continued efforts, that very little good could be
accomplished while excitement was running at so high pitch, and the mob
spirit so rampant, we concluded to leave the State of Missouri until
it cooled off from its fermented condition. Brother Butterfield took
for his field of labor the northern sections of Indiana and Illinois,
while I continued my course through Missouri, the southern portion of
Illinois, and into Kentucky.
Just before leaving the State, as I approached a beautiful little
village, called Jacksonville, I felt an anxiety to preach to the
people, and yet felt that it would not be proper to make myself known
as a "Mormon" Elder. Just as I arrived at the suburbs of the town,
I accosted a stranger whom I met, and desired him to inform me who
was the principal minister in the place. He told me the minister's
name, and said he was a Methodist, directing me to his residence. On
my arrival at the house, a very fine and intelligent appearing lady
responded to the door-bell, and informed me that her husband was not
at home. I told her I was a minister of the Gospel--a stranger in
that part of the country--that I wished to stop in town over night,
and desired to improve the opportunity of preaching to the people, if
a suitable house could be obtained. "To what religious persuasion do
you hold, sir?" was the first inquiry. "I wish, madam," said I, "this
evening, to speak to a promiscuous congregation, embracing all classes
of people, therefore, I had thought, on this particular occasion, and
for this special purpose, I would beg to suppress the name of the
religious denomination of which I am a minister; but," I continued,
"I was christened Lorenzo, having been named as you see, madam, after
the celebrated Lorenzo Dow." Her eyes lighted up, and her countenance
assumed a pleasant smile; she invited me to walk in and be seated--said
her husband would be in directly--that he had charge of the principal
chapel, and would be delighted to accord to me its accommodations. The
minister soon made his appearance, to whom I was introduced by his
lady. The gentleman at once assented to my wishes--sent notice around
of the meeting, and had the bell of his chapel rung long and loud.
That evening I had a large, appreciative audience, and spoke with great
freedom; in fact, I seldom, if ever, enjoyed greater liberty than on
that occasion. What my hearers thought of me or whom they imagined I
was, or whence I came, or whither I was going, I am left in ignorance
to this day, as I was not required to inform any of my audience, and of
course was entirely reticent on those points. I stayed over night with
the minister, and after breakfast the next morning, took my departure,
no further questions having been asked in relation to my business or
profession, excepting as shown in the following incident:
At this time, I was, as usual, traveling "without purse or scrip." I
had proceeded two or three miles, when I noticed that just ahead of me
the road forked, and being at a loss which to take, I called at a house
a little in the distance, to inquire. A gentleman was standing on the
porch, who, after satisfying my inquiry, with much apparent diffidence,
asked if I was not a minister of the Gospel, and if I would not allow
him the pleasure of contributing a little to aid in the good cause
in which I was engaged, at the same time drawing from his pocket the
willing offering, which I very thankfully accepted. Probably he was
one of the audience at the meeting the evening before. Not more than
an hour later, I found myself in actual need of a portion of the kind
gentleman's donation, for I soon came to a large stream where money was
necessary to pay for ferryage.
In passing through the southern portion of Illinois, I found, in
general, very little interest manifest in reference to the principles
of the fulness of the Gospel, but any amount of ignorance and prejudice.
I spent the remainder of the winter in travel and preaching,
chiefly in the northern part of Kentucky, with varied success, and
treatment--sometimes received in the most courteous manner and listened
to with intense interest, and, at other times, abusively and impudently
insulted; but in no instance treated worse than was Jesus, whom I
profess to follow. He said: "_If they have called the master of the
house Beelzebub, how much more they of his household_?" What a fine
test the Gospel is, to prove the hearts of the people! On one occasion,
I was very courteously tendered a court house, and at the close of
the services, I was invited home by a member of the legislature--was
seated at the head of his table, and otherwise as highly honored, and
as hospitably treated, as though I had been a sceptered monarch. Then,
on another occasion, one evening, I was preaching in a large room of a
private house, and afterwards learned that a portion of my audience had
gathered for the purpose of mobbing me. They had arranged with a party
that lay concealed at a little distance, and within call, to join them
immediately on my leaving the house to return to my lodgings, and all
proceed together to execute their schemes of vengeance. It was a very
cold night, and after the close of the services I stood with my back to
the chimney fire, with a number of others--some of whom belonged to the
mob party. One of the latter persons, amid the jostling of the crowd,
accidentally brought his hand in contact with one of the pockets in the
skirt of my coat, which struck him with sudden alarm on his feeling,
what he supposed to be, a large pistol. He immediately communicated the
discovery to his affrighted coadjutors, all of whom directly withdrew,
and, to their fellows outside, imparted the astounding news that the
"Mormon" Elder was armed with deadly weapons. That was sufficient--the
would-be outlaws abandoned their evil designs for fear of signal
punishment; but the supposed pistol which caused their alarm and my
protection, was my pocket Bible, a precious gift to me from the dearly
beloved Patriarch, Father Joseph Smith.
On another occasion, while addressing a congregation in a dwelling
house, in fulfilment of a previous arrangement by a lawless set, to
throw a rope over my head and then drag me to the river and duck me
through a hole in the ice, one of the fellows who was in front of me
was in the act of throwing his lariat, when he was discovered by the
mistress of the house, who instantly gave the alarm, and he sneaked out
of the congregation like a whipped dog.