American Prophet

I have more to boast of than ever any man had. I am the only man that has ever been able to keep a whole church together since the days of Adam. A large majority of the whole have stood by me. Neither Paul, John, Peter, nor Jesus ever did it. I boast that no man ever did such a work as I. The followers of Jesus ran away from Him; but the Latter-day Saints never ran away from me yet. You know my daily walk and conversation. I am in the bosom of a virtuous and good people. How I do love to hear the wolves howl!

[...]

What a thing it is for a man to be accused of committing adultery, and having seven wives, when I can only find one. I am the same man, and as innocent as I was fourteen years ago; and I can prove them all perjurers.

Joseph Smith Jr.
Sunday May 26, 1844
Nauvoo, IL
(History of the Church, vol 6, p. 411)

Joseph Smith made this statement preaching from the stand to the Latter-day Saints in Nauvoo on Sunday May 26, 1844. He had already secretly taken as many as 40 plural wives, some as young as 14, others still married to other men.

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Sunday, June 23rd, 1844 Mississippi River Between Nauvoo, IL and Montrose, IA

"Keep bailing, brethren. There's nothing else for it."

I followed my own advice, hauling one of my boots from my foot to scoop water out of the small rowboat. Before us stretched the mighty Mississippi, dark and ominous in the small hours of the morning. I could only see as far as the next rain-dimpled wave as we headed to the town of Montrose on the Iowa side of the river. Fingers of lightning lit the dark clouds all around, and thunder beat down on us as if it were the very wrath of God.

On a normal day, we would have made this trip in my own steamboat, the Maid of Iowa. This night, however, my dear brother Hyrum and I fled for our lives ahead of the unjust persecution of Governor Thomas Ford, that smug bastard. An old leaky skiff was the best we could procure in our haste to escape Nauvoo.

With Hyrum and I were Dr. Willard Richards and Orrin Porter Rockwell, men whose love for me never faltered. Porter rowed whilst the rest of us bailed, lest the leaky skiff sink and carry us to the bottom of the mighty river with it. Each wind-whipped wave of the night-darkened water rocked the boat to and fro, threatening to carry us to our graves. My heart was in my throat for every moment of that unfortunate voyage, sure that the almighty God had at last seen fit to grant my persecutors their wish: that I might answer for my sins, my life forfeit.

We at last arrived again on land in Iowa Territory around daybreak, each of us wet as drowned rats and trembling with weariness. Montrose, just across the river from lovely Nauvoo, was an old abandoned U.S. Army fort that now housed various Indians and white settlers in its cluster of simple, unpainted wood houses. Notwithstanding its objective ugliness, I had never seen a sight so lovely as this squalid little place. Yet again, I had escaped the grasp of those who sought to destroy me, and the entire world now opened itself up to me and my grand designs.

Before we sought a place to rest with some of the saints who lived in Montrose still, I asked brother Porter, my most loyal servant and executor of many of my most secret commands, to return to Nauvoo by ferry to fetch horses and supplies for Hyrum and me.

"Horses, Brother Joseph?" Porter asked. "I thought we were to wait here for Phelps to learn whether the Governor has sent his militia after you."

"The Lord has given Joseph a revelation, warned him to flee to the Rocky Mountains to save his life," Hyrum explained from beside me. "A company of men are seeking to kill my brother and me."

Porter's face hardly twitched. "I'll see to any men as try to harm either of you, Brother Hyrum. You see if I don't. The Danite boys and the entire Legion will stand with me besides."

I grasped his shoulder warmly. "I love you for it, Porter. But the Governor himself has gathered his militias and has threatened to destroy all of Nauvoo if we resist. I fear that even the Legion can't stand against them, and all they want is Hyrum and me. Best if we flee and build ourselves a new kingdom in the west. The Lord has called me to the Rocky Mountains, and perhaps He will see fit to guide us to Oregon Territory after all. Bring the horses secretly in the night with any provisions you are able to procure. Brother Hodge is gathering our families and effects. The Maid of Iowa will take them to Portsmouth where they shall have further instruction from us."

Porter's eyes flick from me to Hyrum and back before saying quietly, "Why, Brother Joseph, you know as well as I do how I can handle a Governor what sets himself against you."

"Yes, but Boggs still breathes, Porter, and I spent more than four months in that God-forsaken prison in Missouri. Go now. See to our families and bring the horses. Bring guns and ammunition back with you. I will not be put in chains again."

He did as I said, as he ever has done. Hyrum, Willard Richards, and I retired to the home of Brother William Jordan, who we sent to purchase necessary provisions for our journey west. Soon we were scooping flour from barrels into canvas sacks that would fit in saddle packs.

That afternoon, Porter returned with the horses and guns, but Brother Reynolds Cahoon and some others accompanied him with the intent to convince Hyrum and I to return to Nauvoo. I gave him the same answer. "I will not go back, Brother Cahoon. They will tear my limbs from my body and put my head on a spike. Trust in the word of a Prophet of God."

Brother Cahoon then handed to me a letter from my wife, Emma. My heart filled with dread and foreboding as I read the beautifully curled handwriting of my beloved.

"She wants us to go back," I said to Hyrum quietly, still staring at the letter. Hope abandoned me, leaving only sick despair in my gut. I could not stop hot tears from filling my eyes, spilling down my face. "She knows we'll be killed, Hyrum. I gave the revelation to her plainly. And she is asking me to return. To give myself to the mob."

Brother Cahoon was one of my closest friends and confidantes, having been with me from nearly the founding of the Church. Now, however, his oft-cheerful eyes were full of reproach. "When the wolves came, the shepherd ran from the flock, and left the sheep to be devoured. I never figured you for a coward, Brother Joseph."

I drew close and looked him in the eye, not a small measure of anger hastening my step. "If I or Hyrum are ever taken again, we will be massacred, or I am not a prophet of God."

Brother Cahoon frowned, uncowed. "Governor Ford has promised your safety in writing, Brother Joseph. And what of the others who stand accused, who acted on your orders and those of the Council in destroying the Nauvoo Expositor's press? Will you abandon them to the fate you designed?"

When I stood quiet a long moment, Brother Cahoon lay a friendly hand on my arm. "Ford has vowed to occupy and even destroy the entirety of Nauvoo if you are not found, Joseph. Women and children will die if you do not give yourselves up, and all of our property will be forfeit."

Desperate, I looked to Hyrum, who stood the other side of Cahoon. "Brother Hyrum, you are the oldest and the wisest, what shall we do?"

Hyrum's face carved a mask of sorrow, for he knew our fate as well as I did. "Let us go back and give ourselves up and see the thing out. We cannot leave our people to suffer in our stead."

I passed a hand over my face, suddenly weary beyond earthly measure. "Governor Ford has accused us of violating the Constitution in at least four particulars, Hyrum. He means to get us out of Nauvoo where his ungodly men can have a go at us. If you go back, I will go with you. But we shall be butchered."

He smiled and shook his head, attempting a brave face. "No, no. Let us go back and put our trust in God, and we shall not be harmed. The Lord is in it. If we live or have to die, we will be reconciled to our fate, Joseph."

After a sad smile and a nod to my brother, I gave Brother Cahoon my reply, sorrow roughening my voice to a broken growl. "If my life is of no value to my friends, it is of none to myself."

We returned to Nauvoo by ferry and landed on the south dock. I nearly wept again to see the brilliant white stone temple on the hill above the neatly arranged streets, all in a perfect grid. I loved that city, but I had never before feared for my life as I did in that moment. Not even in a squalid jail at Liberty, Missouri, or in the grasp of a spiteful mob who tarred and feathered and left me for dead in Kirtland, Ohio. God had granted me my escape and now I was stepping back into the lion's den.

Nauvoo, the great burgeoning frontier city that had been built by my own sweat and tears and by those of my people, was eerily quiet as Hyrum and I disembarked and walked the streets. Any other day, my people would have shouted their greetings, their adoration.

I put an arm around my brother's shoulders to pull him close. "Something is wrong, Hyrum."

He pursed his lips and looked around us. There at the Nauvoo House was Brother Miller, and there Brother Whitney tended the red brick store, my own store, of which I was so proud. None so much as raised a hand to greet us. "I fear we've lost their faith, Joseph. If we're to continue to lead these people, we must show them that God is still with us."

"I hope that He is," I replied sadly, and kept my arm around my dear brother, as if he were the only thing saving me from slipping down to hell that very moment.

My own house, called 'The Mansion' by most folk in Nauvoo, was very nearby the landing, and for the last year it had served as a hotel as well as my residence. I had found myself hosting folk just about every night anyhow, so despite the dangers inherent to inviting strangers into my bosom, I had resolved to make some money from it.

I parted ways with my brother as he sought his own home and family just down Water Street. Porter remained with me, of course, as was his habit. Another of Porter's men stood guard at the front door, a young British fellow with whom I wrestled on occasion, though he outweighed me by twenty pounds and was twenty years younger besides. Today, he wore a pistol at his belt, as would the other men Porter had watching the hotel and its guests day and night. There had been several attempts on my life in recent months, and I was fortunate to have a band of friends dedicated to keeping me and my family safe. 'Danites', as they'd come to call themselves, the warrior tribe of Israel. Well, they'd earned the name many times over, in my estimation.

I reached out my hand in salutation. "Hello, John. Mighty kind of you to watch over my family."

John took my hand in his strong grip. "Think nothing of it, Brother Joseph. I'm your man."

"Lambert," I heard Porter greet his man behind me as I stood before my own front door, breathing the warm, humid air deeply, trying to summon the courage to face my wife and children for what would likely be the last time.

"Porter," the man replied. "Should I go with Brother Hyrum if you're going to be with Joseph?"

"Aye, be ready to ride in the morning as well. Gather more of the boys and make sure they've got their guns."

As I finally pushed through my front door, I found my scribe, Brother William Clayton, in my parlor, as was his frequent habit. He managed most of my sensitive business, and nearly every matter of such business in Nauvoo was conducted in my home.

"Brother Joseph, you came back!" The relief in my clerk's voice told me straightaway that Hyrum had been right. Had we fled to the west in the night like thieves, we might have lost the whole of the Church in the doing.

"Ah, good," I said, ignoring the implied doubt in his exclamation. "Brother Clayton, write ahead to Governor Ford to inform him that we who have been so wrongly accused will nevertheless be submitting ourselves to the court in Carthage on the morrow. Express our hope that he will preserve us from the evils of the mobs that have threatened often to kill us."

I waited while Clayton wrote the letter, and after he had sent it off with one of Porter's men waiting outside, I took him aside again. "William, you must burn the records relating to the Council of Fifty. William Law has related his notion of it to the Governor, and I fear we shall be brought low should the records be produced by the courts. They must not know that we have plans to establish the Kingdom of God on the earth, nor hear any mention at all of my place as Prophet and King over it. Gather any drafts of the new constitution from Phelps and Pratt and the others as well. Burn them all, William, or they will hang me for it. Swear it to me."

Brother Clayton, who had been my close companion and record-keeper for near on four years, grasped my hand and looked me dead in the eye. "I'll see it done, Brother Joseph. God go with you."

I had previously planned to preach to my people by the starlight this evening, to commune with the saints, the most perfect people the earth had ever seen, one last time. However, when my dear Emma and our children finally arrived at the Mansion that afternoon, my heart desired nothing more than to spend this last night with them. My wife rushed to me, embracing me upon finding me at home.

"Oh, Joseph. I know that you fear for your life, but we need you here," she sobbed. "Your people need you. They've threatened to raze the entire city if you are not found."

"I know it now, Emma. I'm sorry I ever left."

And I was, for without my family and my people, of what value was my life? This here was what I had spent a lifetime of toil to build, and I'd be damned if I was going to pack up and flee.

And so, I stayed the evening with Emma and our children in the partitioned portion of the mansion that we kept for ourselves, leaving the saints and the rest of the world to manage for themselves for one night. We recounted fond stories together for hours before the fire, telling the children of our courtship, and of all the miraculous events that had transpired since the publication of the Book of Mormon that had brought us to this place so far from our childhood homes in New York and Pennsylvania. My three sons, Joseph, Frederick, and Alexander, and my adopted daughter Julia sat with us, bright eyed and smiling, innocent to what the morrow most likely would bring.

When at last the children tired and sought their beds, I finally had opportunity to seek a final reconciliation with my wife, my companion of so many years.

"Emma," I began. "It's that damn William Law. He and the others refuse to understand that I am subject to the express command of the Lord relating to the law of eternal marriage. I should never have ordered the destruction of their press, but they have spread my sacred business, slandering me with talk of polygamy. Now they've got cause to take me before their mobs, and that damned Governor Tom Ford isn't going to do a thing to stop it."

I knew immediately that I had erred in mentioning William Law, for Emma grew quiet, sullen. She had grown fond of the man. Overly fond. And this despite him conspiring to destroy me and all I had built. I should have had the bastard poisoned quietly while I had the chance.

"How many of them were there?" Emma asked after a few tense minutes of looking at anything but me.

"How many what?" I replied quietly. Though I knew precisely what she meant.

"How many women have you propositioned with these 'sealings'?" she growled the last word. "How many knew about it, and laughed at me because I did not know? I forgave you for Fanny all those years ago, and even your deception with the Partridge sisters, and Eliza Snow, and all the other house girls. But still you have insisted on continually making a fool of me."

I risked putting a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, you must believe me. After all you've seen, after all you know. It was a commandment of the Lord, given by an angel with a flaming sword. I had no choice in the matter."

Emma did not mention, of course, the ugliness with Eliza Snow, and I was not stupid enough to do so in this moment when all I desired was reconciliation.

"How many?" She asked again, quietly.

I drew a deep breath, my gut roiling. "Forty or so. But most were just sealings, binding our family to theirs in the eternities."

"Most?"

"Yes," I said, hanging my head. "Most. But you must know that you are foremost among any, my first wife. If I had had any choice, I would have taken none of them."

She cried then, deeply, and for a long time, rocking back and forth as she hugged her knees on the bed. I could hear her murmuring a prayer to God, never looking at me. Never in my life have I felt so low, and I have had many an occasion to feel so.

Finally, her sobs subsided, and she drew several deep breaths before she raised her head to meet my eyes. Her eyes and cheeks shone with tears, all rimmed in red. "I have no more ill feelings toward you, my Joseph, not for the other women or any of it. Thank you for telling me. I forgive you, and I hope God will as well."

It was when I heard those words that I knew my wife had knowingly summoned me to submit to my death. Nevertheless, I found myself profoundly grateful for the understanding and resilient love from this good woman who had suffered so much for my cause. I spent that one last tender night in the blessed embrace of my beloved, and I counted myself the luckiest man in God's eternal creation for it.

When my dear Emma had fallen asleep and I could not find peace, knowing what would come the next day, I returned downstairs to the parlor to find the fire in the hearth freshly stoked, and my chief secretary, Brother William Clayton, hard at work poring through the thousands of pages of journals and records he had kept at my behest. The lower floor of my mansion house, being a hotel as well as a home for my family, was thus as much a place of business as a residence, and it was common for Brother Clayton in particular to come and go as he wished, tending to my various affairs. He even had his own key to the parlor, which stayed locked unless he or I were there to open it.

"Here so late, Brother William?"

"Yes," he said without looking up from the contents of the desk in one corner of the room, his customary roost. Journals and loose stacks of papers covered his large desk and several chairs positioned nearby. "You asked me to remove all records of the Council of Fifty, and I must see to it before the Governor's men arrive to demand evidence. They will seize everything they can from this place to see your business aired to the world, mark my words Brother Joseph."

A thought came to me then, one that scared me more than it excited me. But I felt in my heart that tonight might be near to my last, and my soul would be lighter should the truth of my life be made known to the people who had given so much for my cause. The whole truth.

"Brother Clayton," I began, but my voice faltered as I was overcome with emotion. I cleared my throat, took a sip of the wine I had left in here earlier, and spoke again. "You have been with me these several years, and you have served me faithfully. But there is a large and important portion of my story that even those closest to me do not know. I have said before that no man knows my history, but now I have it in mind to relate to you the whole of it from the beginning, as it truly happened. My family deserves the truth, and it is my wish that you would scribe it for me here and now."

Brother Clayton set aside the stacks of bound papers to procure his customary bound journal, took his pen from its cup, and twisted in his chair to look me in the eye. "Brother Joseph, it would be my very great honor. Where would you like to begin?"

"Best we start at the beginning, or near enough."