With me I had brought home about all that my team could haul of
supplies, clothing, and groceries, which soon made my family
comfortable. I had met Brigham and shaken hands with him, but had
not made my report or delivered the money to him. The next
morning Brigham called to see me, and notified me that the
Council would meet at nine o'clock at Dr. Richards', and for me
to be there and make my report. He appeared ashamed of the manner
in which my family had been treated.
"Brother Brigham, how does this compare with your promises to me,
when I trusted all to you?" I said.
"Brother John," Brigham replied, "I am ashamed of the conduct of
this people. Do not blame me, Brother John, for I have done the
best I could." Then putting his hand on my shoulder, he said:
"Don't feel bad about it. You will live through, and the day will
come when we can look back and see what we have endured for the
Kingdom of Heaven's sake. Lord bless you, Brother John."
Allow me to jump from 1847 to 1877, just thirty years. I have
remained faithful to the end. I was adopted by Brigham, and was
to seek his interests here, and in return he was to seek my
salvation; I, being an heir of his family, was to share his
blessings in common with his other heirs. True to my pledges, I
have done his bidding. I have let him direct my energies in all
things. And the time has come for me to receive my reward. An
offering must be made; I must hew the wood and build the altar;
then, as did Abraham of old with his son Isaac, I must be laid
upon the altar as a sacrifice. I must meet my fate without
murmuring or complaining; I must submit, true to the end. If I
endure firm to the end, I will receive the martyr's crown.
After my return, my first duty was to build comfortable houses
for my family. Soon afterwards I was sent to St. Joseph to cash
the checks and purchase goods to supply the wants of the people.
I was directed to purchase a lot of salt and potatoes from a
Frenchman at Trading Point. I did so, and bought three hundred
dollars' worth on credit, and sent it back to the settlement. I
had to borrow the money from Mrs. Armstrong to pay the three
hundred dollars. But she was afterwards sealed to me, and it was
then all in the family. I never asked Brigham for it, and he
never offered to pay it.
On that trip to St. Joseph I bought fifteen hundred dollars'
worth of goods, such as were needed at the settlement. I advanced
seven hundred dollars of my own money; the remainder was from the
money sent home by the Mormon Battalion. I took the goods back
and we opened a store at winter quarters. Brother Rockwood acted
as chief clerk and salesman. We sold the goods at a great
advance. What cost us seven cents in St. Joseph we sold at sixty-
five cents. Everything was sold at a similar profit. I kept the
stock up during the winter and did a good business. One drawback
was this: many of the families of the men who were in the Mormon
Battalion had no money, and we were obliged to let them have
goods on credit. I had to stand the loss myself, for few of the
men ever paid a dollar due me when they returned.
Andrew Little was in the battalion, and at the request of Brigham
I let his family have two hundred and fifty-eight dollars' worth
of goods. Brigham said I should have my money when Little
returned, but I never got any of it. Little was also an adopted
son of Brigham, and did about as he pleased. James Pace, Thomas
Woolsey, and a few others of the soldiers paid me when they
returned for what I had advanced their families, but the majority
never paid.
When I returned from Santa Fe I found David Young, his wife, and
two daughters lying sick and helpless - really in want. I took
care of them and supplied them with food and such articles as
they required until the death of the father, mother, and one son,
which took place in a short time - a few months after my return
home. I had baptized this family in Putnam County, Tennessee, and
felt an interest in them. The two girls were sealed to me while
we stayed at winter quarters, and became members of my family.
They are both living. By them I have had three sons and three
daughters. They were sealed to me in 1847. I was also sealed to
Nancy Armstrong the same evening that I took the Young girls to
wife. A few evenings afterwards I was sealed to Emeline Woolsey.
She was my thirteenth wife.
Nancy Armstrong's maiden name was Gibbons. She was the wife of a
wealthy merchant by the name of Armstrong, who owned a large
establishment in Louisville, and another in Carlisle, Kentucky,
at which places he did business as wholesale and retail dealer in
dry goods. I became acquainted with the family at Carlisle, while
preaching there.
The people of Carlisle were bitter enemies of the Mormon Church,
and a mob threatened to tar and feather me one night, when
Armstrong took me home with him and protected me. He was not a
believer in any religion, but I always considered him a high-
minded, honorable man. I afterwards often stopped at the house.
His wife and sister Sarah were believers in the Mormon faith, but
as Mr. Armstrong was not, I advised his wife not to become a
member of the Church, and refused to baptize her until her
husband would consent to it. Elder Smoot afterwards baptized
Sarah Gibbons and Nancy Armstrong.
Brother Smoot had taken his wife with him on the mission, and she
laid the plan to get Sarah to go to Nauvoo. A wagon was sent to
take Sarah Gibbons' goods to Nauvoo, and in it Mrs. Armstrong
sent her valuable clothing and jewelry, amounting to more than
two thousand dollars. She intended to join the Saints at the
first chance.
Within a few months after Sarah had gone Mrs. Armstrong got the
consent of her husband to pay a visit to her sister and the
Church at Nauvoo; he fitted her up in fine style, sending two
serving maids to wait on her.
Soon after she left home the friends of Armstrong advised him to
stop his slaves at St. Louis, if he wanted to keep them, for his
wife would never return to him. Armstrong stopped the slaves, and
his wife went on to Nauvoo, where she stayed until the Saints
left that place after the death of the Prophet. Elder Smoot had
planned to get Mrs. Armstrong to Nauvoo, so he could be sealed to
her and get her property. Sarah Gibbons was sealed to Elder
Smoot, but Mrs. Armstrong would not consent to take him as her
husband; but she lived in the family until she got disgusted with
Smoot's treatment of her sister. She loaned him nearly all her
money and he never paid it back; he wanted the rest, but she
refused to let him have it; he then declined to take her with him
across the plains. She told her griefs to my wife Rachel, and
Rachel brought about the marriage between her and myself.
Mrs. Armstrong told Rachel that I was the first man on earth to
bring the gospel to her, and she had always had a great regard
for me, but I appeared to treat her coldly. Rachel told her that
I always spoke kindly of her, and the reason I had not been more
friendly was because I thought she wanted to become a member of
Brother Smoot's family; that she had heard me speak of her in
terms of praise many times.
Finally she came to my house and I asked her, in the presence of
my wives, to become a member of my family. My wives advised me to
be sealed to her, and, as the matter was agreeable all round, I
was. Brigham sealed her and the Young girls to me. She was a
true, affectionate woman. My whole family respected her. She was
forty-eight years of age when she was sealed to me, and remained
a true wife until her death.
In matters of this kind I tried to act from principle and not
from passion. Yet I do not pretend to say that all such acts wore
directed by principle, for I know they were not. I am not blind
to my own faults. I have been a proud man, and in my younger days
I thought I was perfection. In those days, too, I expected
perfection in all women. I know now that I was foolish in looking
for that in anybody. I have, for slight offenses, turned away
good-meaning young women who had been sealed to me; refused to
hear their excuses, and sent them away heartbroken.
In this I did wrong. I have regretted the same in sorrow many
years. Two of the young women so used still keep warm hearts for
me, notwithstanding my conduct toward them. They were young and
in the prime of life when I sent them from me. They have since
married again, and are the mothers of families. They frequently
send letters to comfort me in my troubles and afflictions, but
their kind remembrances serve only to add to my self-reproach for
my cruel treatment of them in past years. I banished them from me
for lesser offenses than I myself had been guilty of.
Should my story ever fall into the hands of Emeline Woolsey or
Polly Ann Workman, I wish them to know that, with my last breath,
I asked God to pardon me for the wrong I did them, when I drove
them from me - poor young girls as they were.
Brigham built a gristmill during the winter, and ground meal for
the people, charging a toll for all that the mill ground. In the
spring I was ordered to go out and preach, and raise thirty-three
wagons with the mules and harness to draw them. I succeeded in
getting thirty of the teams. Brigham told me to go again, that he
had asked for thirty-three teams, not for thirty. I went again,
and preached so that I soon had the other teams. I then turned
the whole outfit over to Brigham, so he could send his pioneers
to look up a new home for the Saints. I offered to go with the
company, but Brigham said:
"I cannot spare you; I can spare others better than you."
Brigham directed me to take my family and a company and go and
raise corn for the people. He said:
"I want you to take a company, with your family, and go up the
river and open up a farm, and raise grain and vegetables to feed
the needy and the soldiers' families. We cannot depend on hauling
our substance from Missouri, to feed the many that we have on our
hands. I want so much grain raised that all will be supplied next
winter, for we must feed our animals grain if we wish to cross
the plains next spring. There is an old military fort about
eighteen miles above here, where the land was once farmed, and
that land is in good condition for farming now. We will leave
Father Morley in charge of the various settlements. Brother Heber
C. Kimball will send some of his boys and make another farm this
side of there." Then turning to Father Morley, he said: "I want
John to take charge of the farming interests and the settlement
at my place, and you must counsel and advise with him from time
to time. I want you and all the brethren to understand that the
land nearest the settlement is to be divided between John and his
wives, for they are workers. The others are to go further for
their land."
At this I said that such an arrangement would not give
satisfaction to the people; there were several of his adopted
sons already jealous of me, and I feared the consequences, and
preferred to have the land divided more equally.
"Who is jealous of you?" he asked.
Then I named several persons to him. In reply he said, naming a
man, that he would work all day under the shade of a tree.
Another could work all day in a half-bushel. Then he said:
"Such men will do but little; let them go to some outside place
for their land. I want those who will work to have the best land.
Let each family have an acre near the settlement for a garden and
truck patch. And now, Father Morley, I want you to see that John
and his family have all the cleared land they can tend, for I
know they will raise a good crop, and when it is raised we can
all share with him. I want a company to follow Brother John,
about the 1st of May, when the grass is good, made up of men that
can fit themselves out comfortably. My brother, John Young, will
lead them, and Jedde Grant will be their captain." Then he turned
to me and said: "Brother John, I want you to fit my brother John
out. If he needs oxen, let him have them, and I will pay them
back; see that he gets a good outfit. When he leaves here Father
Morley will take charge of the Church. I want the brethren to do
as Brother John tells them; he carries a good in- fluence
wherever he goes; no evil reports follow him from his field of
labor; all respect him, and that is evidence to me that he
carries himself straight."
Now, I settled up my business at the winter quarters. Brigham was
indebted to the firm two hundred and eighty-five dollars; he had
not the money to settle the account, and he was just starting to
look out a resting place for the Saints. His first adopted son,
Brother Rockwood, our salesman, could not spare a dollar, so the
loss of that money fell on me. I told Brigham he was welcome to
the two hundred and eighty-five dollars. Before he left for the
new land of promise he said to me:
"My son John, what shall I do for you?"
"Select me an inheritance when you find the resting-place," said
I.
"I will remember you. May Heaven bless you. I bless you. Be a
good boy. Keep an account of how each man under your charge
occupies his time, while I am gone."
Brigham then said I was to have half the improvements that were
made, and half the crop that was raised by the company I fitted
out with teams, seeds, and provisions.
The pioneer company started April 1st, 1847. We moved to our new
location, and called it Summer Quarters. We threw up a fort to
protect us from the Indians, as they were troublesome. We then
laid out our land. I found that if I obeyed orders it would
require all the cleared land for my family, so I set off three
acres to each family - there were thirty-seven families - for
gardens, and took the balance.
Although I had given each family three times as much land, for a
garden and truck patch, as Brigham ordered, the people found a
great deal of fault with me. Mrs. Armstrong had some money left,
and she told me to take it and send for supplies and seed corn. I
did take it, and sent four teams to Missouri for corn and
provisions, and then set all hands at work building the fort and
putting the land in order for the crop.
About the beginning of May thirty-eight warriors of the Oto tribe
came to our camp. They were in full paint, and on the warpath.
They came in on the yell, and at full speed. It was just
daylight; I was laying the foundation of a house when they came
to me. I threw logs against them as if I did not see them, but
most of the brethren kept out of sight.
The Indians began to build a fire in my garden, and one raised
his gun to shoot one of my oxen which the boys were driving up.
The majority of the Indians formed a half circle, holding their
bows fully strung, and commenced a war dance. We had been told
not to shoot Indians, but to take sticks and whale them when they
commenced any depredations. As the Indian took the leather casing
from his gun so that he could shoot, I rushed them with a heavy
club, with the intention of knocking down as many as I could. I
could speak their language some, and I told them I would kill
them all if they shot my ox. They saw that I meant what I said.
Then the two chiefs held out their hands, and yelled to the
warrior not to shoot. He lowered his gun and returned to the
crowd, but he was very angry. The other Indians seemed amazed,
and stood as if paralyzed. Old man Knight followed me with a
club, and stood by me all the time. Joseph Busby said:
"Hold on, Brother Lee, they outnumber us."
"For all that," said I, "there are not Indians enough in their
nation to make me stand by and see them shoot down my oxen before
my eyes."
Busby then ran into the house to load my gun, but he was so
frightened he could not get the powder in it, and my wife Rachel
loaded it for him. I looked around to see how things were, and
saw seven of my wives standing with guns in their hands, ready to
shoot if I was attacked. I succeeded in driving the Indians from
the settlement.
Some time after the Indians had gone away an old chief returned
and brought an ax that he said one of his bucks had stolen. I
gave him a little ammunition and bread, and he left me as a
friend.
My firm stand saved the settlement at that time and secured it
from molestation in the future. The Indians never bothered us at
Summer Quarters again. In the fall they made us a friendly visit,
and called me a Sioux.
Near our settlement there was an abundance of wild game - deer,
turkey, prairie chickens, ducks, geese, brant, and squirrels -
which gave us much of our food during our stay. We worked
diligently and raised a great crop of corn and vegetables. We
built comfortable houses, and made the floors and roofs of
basswood, which was plenty near by, and worked easily.
In July the people were all sick. The fever and ague were fairly
a contagion. Other diseases were not uncommon. In August and
September seventeen of our people died. During these months we
had hardly a sufficient number of well people to attend to the
sick. The most of my family were very sick. My little son, Heber
John, the child of my first wife, Agathe Ann, died; also David
Young, Sr., the father of my two wives, Polly and Louisa; also
their brother, David Young, Jr. I lay at the point of death for
some time. I was in a trance nearly one hour and a half.
While in this condition my wives Rachel and Nancy stood over me
like guardian angels, and prayed for me. My spirit left the body
and I was taken into another sphere, where I saw myriads of
people - many of whom I was acquainted with and had known on
earth. The atmosphere that they dwelt in was pure and hallowed.
Pain and sorrow were unknown. All was joy and peace. Each spirit
was blest with all the pleasure its ability enabled it to
comprehend and enjoy. They had full knowledge of earthly doings
and also of the sphere where they were so blest. The glory of God
shone upon them, the power of Heaven over-shadowed them all, and
was to them a shield from temptations and dangers. I was anxious
to remain, but the spirits told me I must return to the body and
remain in it until my appointed time for death - that my work on
earth was not yet finished. I obeyed, but did so with reluctance,
and once more entered the body, then apparently lifeless upon the
bed of sickness.
After taking possession of the body again I lay some time in deep
thought, contemplating the majesty of God's works. I then spoke
to my faithful nurses, and told them of what I had done, heard,
and witnessed. I recovered from my sickness, but my life was for
some time a misery to me. I longed to join that angelic host I
had so lately visited in their mansions of glory and pleasure,
where I knew I was to go when I escaped from this body of earthly
material.
This feeling of anxiety to go to my eternal rest was strengthened
by the bitter, malignant actions of men who acted like demons
toward me and mine. Every species of intrigue and meanness was
resorted to by several of the brethren to injure and torment me.
They were jealous of me and anxious to provoke me to violence.
Everything that envy and hatred could suggest was tried to break
up and scatter my family. Finally they reported to Father Morley
that nothing but a change of rulers in the settlement would bring
peace.
Father Morley came, with several elders, and called a meeting, at
which he heard all the parties state their grievances against me.
He then told them they had brought nothing against me that
reflected upon me as presiding officer; that I had acted well and
for the best interest of the entire people; that all the trouble
arose from the wrong acts of the people.
One of the brethren, C. Kennedy, proposed a change. He wanted a
High Priest to preside instead of a Seventy. I was tired of my
position and consented to the change. A man by the name of Fuller
was selected by Kennedy to rule over the people. Father Morley
put the question to a vote of the people, and said that all who
wished a change of rulers should hold up their hands. Only two
hands were raised. Then he said that all who wished me to remain
in charge should raise their hands, when every person present but
two voted that I should still be the ruler at Summer Quarters.
Father Morley called upon the two brethren who had voted for a
change to get up and tell what they had against me. They could
give no good reason for wanting a change. They said they had
never lived by a better neighbor or kinder man than I was, but
that I was too kind. I let the people run over me; and they voted
for a change believing it would tend to unite the people and
satisfy those who had been raising a fuss and finding fault.
Father Morley told them it was wrong to vote against a good man
for such reasons. He talked to the people on the principles of
their religion for some time, and advised them to forsake their
evil ways, for they were going in a road that led to hell. This
ended my troubles for a time, but I soon found that my enemies
had only let go their hold to spit on their hands and get a
better one.
They asked to be allowed to organize a Danite force for the
protection of the settlement. This was to be entirely apart from
me. I granted their request. It was next decided to build an
estray pound. A meeting was called and it was agreed that each
man should build fence in proportion to the amount of stock he
owned, and that the public corral should be used for the estray
pound. But no stock was to be put into the pound until all the
fencing was done and the gates set up. I at once completed my
fencing, but the grumblers had no time to work; they were too
busy finding fault. The whole thing was a subterfuge, and was
meant to bother me. There was no need of a pound, as our cattle
were herded in daytime and corralled at night. But I submitted,
for I knew I could live by their laws as well as they.
One evening, as my cattle were being driven up for the night, one
of the oxen broke through a brush fence and got into a patch of
corn. The herdsman ran him out in a moment. Instead of holding
the herder responsible for the damage, or coming to me to make a
complaint and demand pay for the wrong, they took my ox out of
the corral, and, contrary to the vote of the people, tied him up
in Wm. Pace's private corral. I was the only man who had made his
fence, as ordered by the meeting. I did not know that they had my
ox tied up (for work had not been done to justify putting any
stock in the pound).
Next morning I sent one of my boys to yoke up my oxen; he
returned and informed me that one of my oxen was missing. I soon
found the ox, and demanded its release. I was told I must pay
twenty dollars before I could have the ox, and pay it in money. I
saw this was done to worry me, and sent word that I would pay in
any kind of property I had.
They refused everything but money or butter. I had neither to
spare, and they well knew it. I was still weak from my recent
sickness, but I walked over and had a talk with Wm. Pace and
tried to reason with him, but to no purpose. I told him he ought
to take pay for damage done by stock in the kind of property that
the stock had injured, but no, I must pay money or butter, or
lose my ox. I reflected a moment and concluded that forbearance
had ceased to be a virtue; that unless I defended my rights I
would soon be without anything worth protecting. I then walked
into the yard, untied the ox, and told my boy to drive him home.
Pace stood by the gate with a large cane, but made no resistance;
in fact, he was not a bad man, but was being misled by evil
company.
Kennedy, Busby, Dunn, and others were a little way off. They saw
me, and came running up. Kennedy was the bully of the camp, and
the leader of those against me. He came up and said:
"If I had been here you would not have turned that ox out. I
would have switched you if you had tried it."
"Kennedy," I said, "I have lost property enough without your
oppressing me any more."
He shoved his fist under my nose. I parried his blow, and told
him that he would do well to keep at a proper distance from me.
He again made a pass at me. I then threw down my hat and said:
"If you attempt that again you must take what follows."
He came at me the third time, and as he did so I aimed to spoil
his face, but he dropped his head as I struck; the blow took
effect on his eyebrow, and badly sprained my thumb. We were on a
little knoll, full of stumps of small trees that had been cut
down. Kennedy caught hold of me and commenced shoving me back.
I knew that my strength would not last long. I did not wish to
risk having a tussle among the stumps, so I backed towards the
cleared ground. I fastened my left hand in his long black hair to
steady myself, and as I reached the flat ground I suddenly leaped
back, breaking his hold by tearing my shirt. I then jerked him
forward at an angle of forty-five degrees, and planted my fist in
his face; stepping back, and drawing him after me, I kept feeding
him in the face with my fist, the blood spurting over me.
The crowd saw their bully getting the worst of it, and ran in to
help him. Brother Teeples caught me around the arms, to prevent
me striking any more. My Rachel, who was standing by, called to
her brother, James Woolsey, and he came and took hold of Kennedy
and separated us. I was sorry that this fight took place, for I
had severely punished the bully, and his face was badly bruised.
This suited the people; I had shown violence, and now they could
lay a charge against me that they thought would stand. I was
cited to appear before the High Council, and be dealt with
according to the rules of the Church, for a breach of the peace
and for unchristian conduct.
The whole people were not against me, only a few; but there were
enough of them to keep up a constant broil. They began consecrating
my property to their own use; killed my cattle, and ate them, and
stole everything that was loose. They stole wheat from my
graneries, had it ground, and ate it, and bragged about it.
Kennedy, by the evil influences he commanded, induced my young
wife, Emeline, to leave me and go to his house, and she went with
his family to the winter quarters. That was the reason that I
turned her away and refused to take her back. She repented, and
wished to come back, but I would not receive her.
Similar influences were brought to bear on all of my family, but
without success. Such treatment was not calculated to bind me to
such a people, whose only aim appeared to be to deprive me of
every comfort and enjoyment that made life endurable. I was in
great trouble; in place of friends I had found enemies. There was
a struggle in my mind to decide what I should do. I looked upon
those of my family that remained true and shared my persecutions,
and knew that if I left the Church I could not keep or live with
them; that if I left I must part with all but my first wife and
her children, and to do so was worse than death. I did not know
what to do. I finally appeared before the High Council to meet my
accusers, who had formed a combination to destroy me. I had few
friends to defend me, and they were in a measure powerless. They
dared not speak their mind in my behalf.
Father Morley was true to the last, although he was becoming
unpopular on account of having so long supported me. Lieut. Gully
was another true friend of mine; he said he would never turn
against me until I had done something wrong, even if Brigham
should desire him to do so. This lost him his influence in the
Council.
The most willful and damnable lies were brought up against me.
Many things which had been said and done in moments of amusement
and jocularity were remembered, as though I had said and done
those things for wicked purposes. Everything that could be
discovered or invented to injure me was laid to my charge. All
who were against me had a full chance to talk.
Brother Johnson, who was there, but not as a member of the
Council, was called upon to fill a vacancy occasioned by the
absence of some member. He made a speech to the Council, and
showed where I had acted well; he then voted for my acquittal.
Brother Cummings, who had been a member of the Council when I was
first tried in the summer, and who then took my part, now thought
he would make himself popular with the people, so he volunteered
his evidence and bore false witness against me. This man's action
was wrong and uncharitable. I had been more than a brother to him
in the past; I had supplied his family with food when they would
have suffered but for the help I gave them.
The result of the trial was that I was ordered to confess I had
been in fault; that I was alone to blame, and must ask the people
to forgive me. If I refused I was to be cut off from the Church.
To a man in my situation it was equivalent to death to be cut off
from the Church; my wives would be taken from me, my property
consecrated to the Church, and I turned adrift, broken and
disgraced, and liable to suffer death at the hand of any brother
Danite who wished to take my life to save my soul. I replied that
in justice to myself I could not make such confession, but, if
nothing else would do, I would say as the Council commended me to
say - that is, I would make the confession. I was told that this
would not do; that no whipping of the devil around a stump would
do them; my confession must be full and unconditional.
What the result would have been I cannot say, for just then a
messenger returned, saying that Brigham was near at hand, on his
return with the pioneers who had gone out with him to look for a
resting place for the Saints. This stopped proceedings.
The majority of the people rushed forth to meet Brigham. I
returned home, conscious of my innocence and willing that the
people should have the first show to talk to Brigham and give him
their side of the case. I did this so that I might see how much
he could be stuffed.
The people told their story and misrepresented me in every way;
they told Brigham how I had divided the land, and said that I and
Father Morley both declared that he had ordered me and my family
to take the cleared land.
Brigham sided against me.
After that there was nothing left undone by many of the people to
irritate or injure me or my family.
My property was stolen, my fences broken down, and everything
that vile men could imagine or work up by studying deviltry was
done to make life a burden to me. I had raised over seven
thousand bushels of corn, and everyone had a good crop. I had a
large lot filled up in the husk, and I let my cattle run to it so
as to keep them fat during the winter, that I might drive them
over the plains in the spring. My enemies took advantage of my
position, and drove my cattle from my own corn pile and put them
into the estray pound. I offered to put all the corn I had into
their hands as security, until I could have a meeting called to
examine into the charge. I wanted my cows at home, for we needed
the milk. I had a large family, and many little children that
would suffer without milk. Half the men in the settlement offered
to go my security, but to no purpose. I sent Lieut. Gully to
Brigham with a statement of the case, but he paid no attention to
it. Gully was well acquainted with Brigham, and a fine man too.
He insisted on giving Brigham the story in full, and demanded
that he should go in person and see to the matter. But Brigham
was immovable.
Things stood this way until Emeline, one of Brigham's wives, took
the matter to heart, and begged him to look into the affair. She
asked him to bring her to my house, to visit her sister Louisa,
then one of my wives. He came, but said little of the trouble,
and soon left.
Two days afterwards I wrote Brigham a kind letter, and invited
him to come to my house and eat a turkey dinner with me. I sent
this by Brother Stewart. He met Brigham on his way to my house
and gave him my letter. I did not expect he would come to see me,
but he was there. He treated me most kindly. When supper time
came he said to one of my wives:
"Sister, I have come for a bowl of good milk, but skim the cream
off."
"We have no milk," she replied.
"How is that?" said he. "I thought Brother John always had milk."
I then told him that the Danites had my cows in the pound.
"What on earth are they doing with your cows?" he asked.
Then I told him the whole story in a few words. He scarcely
waited to hear me, but called to his carriage driver, Grant, and
said:
"Come, George, I will go and see about this matter."
He soon returned, saying:
"Your cows will presently be here."
Brigham then asked me where my turkey was. I told him Kennedy had
robbed me of all my turkeys, but perhaps I could borrow one from
him. I then sent Brother Gully to ask Kennedy to loan me a couple
of fat turkey's; that I had Brigham at my house and wanted them
for his supper. He sent word that Brigham was welcome to all the
turkeys he wanted, at his house. I then told Brigham I would go
hunting and get him a nice one for dinner the next day. I went
out that night with Gully and hunted some time, but the snow was
a foot deep or more, and a crust had frozen, so that it was
difficult hunting. At last we found a large flock of turkeys at
roost in the tall Cottonwood timber. I shot two by starlight; one
fell in the river, and we lost it, but the other fell dead at the
roots of the tree. This was a large and fat turkey. I considered
that it would do, and we returned home with it. We had been gone
only a little over an hour.
Brigham stayed at my house. We sat by the fire and talked until
midnight. I unbosomed myself to him. I told him of my ill
treatment, and asked if I had failed in any respect to perform
the duties of the mission he gave me before starting with the
pioneers across the plains. I told him of the great crop we had
raised; that we had it in abundance to feed the poor and for
every purpose; so much, in fact, that there was no sale for it.
He said:
"You have done well, and you shall be blessed for it."
To this I replied that I hoped my blessings would be different
from those I had been receiving. He replied:
"Jesus has said, In this world you shall have tribulation, but in
Me you shall have peace - that is, if you bear these things
patiently, without murmuring."