Goodbye, Nauvoo Read online

  Chapter 6

  The Golden Locket

  Rows and rows of raised mounds loomed out in front of Lydia like waves in a dusty ocean. Lydia stood there, counting the rows that would need to be re-leveled, then plowed and tilled and planted.

  “Danny always did the work himself,” Lydia stated.

  “Of course, miss.” The hired hand peered at her from under his worn, floppy hat. He was a young man, couldn’t have been more than 18, but he was strong and had been willing to help Lydia with her out-chores while she was busy tending Martha. He had done good work, was honest and respectful. He reminded Lydia of her little brother John, whom she had not seen in a couple of years.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have much to pay you, but if you don’t mind your wages in meals...”

  The hand stared out at the field, silently estimating the task at hand. Lydia prayed he would accept her offer to stay and work the farm for her. He was her last resort, otherwise Lydia would be forced to sell Danny’s farm.

  Lydia had counted the money that was leftover from Danny’s last harvest. She had spent a good bit of it on a doctor and medicine when Danny had lung fever, not to mention the cost of his headstone. But now there wasn’t much money left. Not enough to hire a hand to work the farm and pay him a real, decent wage.

  Finally, the hand spoke. “I don’t think I can do that, miss. I need money to go West with my Ma and Pa.”

  “What if I pay you after the harvest?” Lydia asked hopefully. “I can sew and clean for your Ma if that would help.”

  The hand shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, miss. Ma don’t need help with that. We need money.”

  Lydia was desperate now. “What if I let you keep a quarter of the property? You can do with it as you please. Half of the property?”

  “Pa says there’s no point in owning land in Nauvoo no more, it just ain’t worth anything. Sorry, miss.”

  Lydia relented, and the hand went on his way. Her hopes of keeping the farm were gone.

  Alone now, Lydia watched the sun set on her fields, passing slowly down on the other side of the Mississippi, turning the river fiery orange. Lydia bent over and scooped up a handful of dirt, letting the red-brown earth slip through her fingers. I’m sorry, Danny, she thought. Your dreams were too big for this world.

  She turned and stared back at the cabin, where her life with Danny had begun. The chinking was falling out in spots, and weeds were in the garden where roses, Danny’s favorite flowers, had once grown. The cabin wouldn’t fetch much if she sold it. Maybe the fields. They needed some work after last winter’s snow erosion. But who would buy it? The boy’s Pa was right. Land was not worth much in Nauvoo, not after the Prophet’s martyrdom. Saints had already begun leaving Nauvoo, selling their property for whatever they could get for it. The cabin and fields wouldn’t sell for much, if they sold at all, especially now that an exodus was on the horizon.

  Or maybe, just maybe, Lydia could sell the farm, but keep the cabin. She’d even be fine sleeping in the barn if needed. She just needed a place to stay. She could use the money she got from the farm’s sale, if any, to live off. Then what? How long could she go on, living alone? There was no doubt that she was lonely. She was reminded every time she came home that she was very much alone. Although during the day she was kept busy with chores, the nights were empty and painfully silent in the dark cabin by herself.

  Danny had filled her evenings with conversation and laughter. They read together by candlelight and made plans for the future. It would not be the same going on, living in her cabin without Danny. Lydia understood it was time to let it go, that there was no choice but to leave her old life behind. Her finances spoke for themselves. And Lucy already promised her that she could come live with her. Lydia’s aunt could use the domestic help. Lucy ran a small business doing laundry and sewing for others, and she had work to spare. Lydia already offered her services for room and board, should she need to sell the farm. The arrangement would benefit everyone.

  Close to the cabin, under a giant oak tree, stood a little wooden plank, carved only with a name, Rebecca. It was the tiny grave of Lydia’s miscarried child; Danny had buried her there so that Lydia could come and visit her often. Lydia felt regret for not burying Rebecca and Danny together, but she felt the duty as Danny’s wife to give him a proper burial in the burying grounds. Besides, with his disease, she was told by the doctor to keep his corpse away from the house. Lydia obeyed faithfully, although the decision pained her. Lydia stooped down next to the plank, her eyes wistful. Suddenly Lydia felt guilty for even thinking of selling her property. How could she leave her Rebecca behind to be alone?

  “What do you think I should do, Rebecca?” Lydia asked, staring down at the little marker. “Will you be alright by yourself?” Only the wind answered her.

  Lydia straightened herself up and returned to her cabin. It was as if time stood still there. Danny’s bedraggled boots lay under the bed where he last left them. His work clothes hung on a peg and his heavy wool coat was draped around the back of a kitchen chair. At the foot of Lydia’s bed was a little cradle that Danny had built for Rebecca from a hollowed-out tree trunk. On the wall hung a picture of Danny that Lydia drew. Everything in her cabin reminded her of him. It was as if his soul still lingered there and in moments he’d burst through the door singing his exuberant Irish songs like always.

  Lydia eyed all the belongings she knew she would have to sift through before she moved to Lucy’s home, including all the possessions that once belonged to Danny that Lydia considered sacred. How could she possibly get rid of anything when they were so dear to her when they held such sentimental memories? Feeling overwhelmed, Lydia collapsed on her bed and muffled a cry.

  ✽✽✽

  A few weeks later, Lydia was finally ready to say goodbye to her cabin. It had taken her a while to build up the courage to approach her aunt about moving in with her and her family, although they had discussed the arrangement in the past. Lydia knew this would be what was best for her. Scheduling a time for Faddy to come and collect her belongings seemed like the perfect way to force herself out of her cabin. Earlier in the day, Faddy had taken Lydia's animals to town to sell, and he promised her he’d help her sell her property as well. There would be no way to back out now.

  Back at her cabin, Lydia pulled out a cedar trunk and rummaged through its contents, hoping to decipher what to keep and what to leave behind. Faddy would be arriving soon in his wagon to collect her belongings and she needed to be ready to go.

  Sitting on top of the clutter inside of her trunk was a golden locket. Danny had gifted the bauble to her when she was pregnant with their child. “You can put a clipping of the baby’s hair inside,” he had remarked proudly. When Danny died, Lydia had placed a lock of Danny's jet black hair inside it instead.

  Lydia held the locket to her chest, thinking about how sweet the gift was. Shen kissed the smooth gold and placed it around her neck, tucking it inside her dress.

  She fished through the rest of the contents of the trunk, finding nothing else of value to keep. A few books and odds and ends. She cleared out everything she didn’t want and left it on top of the ticking of her bed. Then she replaced the trunk’s contents with the things of value from her home.

  Lydia first detached Danny's portrait from the wall and placed it at the bottom of the trunk; she hoped it wouldn't get bent or ruined there. Lydia had drawn Danny's likeness when they were newlyweds. Next to his portrait hung drawings of her cabin, the oak tree outside where Rebecca was buried, and the temple. Lydia took these down and stacked them neatly in the trunk as well. The drawings would help her remember her old life with Danny.

  On top of her drawings, Lydia also packed a set of pots and pans, silverware, her scriptures, a good Sunday dress - a green frock that had been her wedding dress to Danny, and some quilts. She filled the trunk with everything she thought she would need but still had a little room leftover.

  She glanced up at Danny’s winter coat, m
easuring in her mind if it would fit. Satisfied, she retrieved it and folded it into the trunk, smoothing out its rough wool.

  There, now her trunk was full of everything she wanted to keep.

  Just in time, Lydia heard the whinny of Faddy's team as he parked his wagon outside. Faddy had arrived.

  Lydia pushed the trunk outside and Faddy loaded it up on his wagon. She turned back to have one last look into the cabin and paused there taking in every last detail of the place she had called home for the last three years. Reluctantly, Lydia climbed up into Faddy’s little wagon and it lurched forward and onward, carrying her away from the life that she had once known.

  Chapter 7

  The Temple

  Weeks went by, and Martha watched helplessly as life went on without her. Women from the Relief Society brought chicken stew for her family and helped with her chores during her confinement. Lucy, Margaret, and Lydia helped as well, taking turns watching the children and practicing arithmetic and reading with Malinda. Martha was grateful for their help, but nonetheless, she was tired of being kept indoors. She longed to go outside, where the late spring days were filled with the singing of birds and warm breezes.

  It is better to have children in the fall, Martha thought. Malinda and Sarah were born then. Martha had been kept in isolation during those cold winter months after her girls were birthed. It was a welcome treat to not have to kill and pluck chickens out in the snow, especially when recovering from childbirth.

  There were advantages to being in confinement, and that was time to herself. While Asenath slept, Martha pieced scraps of white cloth into squares and triangles, forming a fabric temple. She cut out the shapes of yellow stars and of a sun and moon, to mimic the images Martha saw on the temple’s walls. She had started on the quilt months before and called it her "Temple Quilt."

  "Whoever sleeps under this will always be reminded of the blessings of the temple,” Lucy had said one day while helping with Martha’s confinement. The thought tickled Martha. By the time she finished her confinement, the quilt was complete.

  Now that her confinement was over, Martha was anxious to return to the temple grounds to see it’s progress and visit Samuel. When he wasn’t hauling, Samuel worked a one-day shift every ten days at the temple, like the other laborers. On the first day of her newfound freedom, Martha bundled up her children and planned an outing to the temple; today was Samuel's day at the temple.

  The walk to the temple was a pleasant one. If they strolled briskly, Martha and her children could reach the temple in five minutes, but Malinda, Sarah, and Johnnie dawdled picking up rocks, smelling flowers, and running from bumblebees. Martha didn’t mind the delay. She enjoyed the nature around her just as much as the children did. They passed fields and farmhouses along the way, some farms with immature groves of apple trees, planted by new Saints who expected to stay in Nauvoo for years. It was a shame that they would never see their trees reach maturity.

  As they walked, the high-pitched clink, clink, clink from stonemasons chiseling mammoth limestone boulders into temple blocks grew louder. The limestone had been quarried nearby and the masons chiseled them by hand onsite at the temple. The noise never ceased during the day; the clink, clink, clink had echoed in the distance for as long as Martha could remember. She was used to the sound by now.

  Clink, clink, clink. The sound drew questions from the non-Mormons that passed through town. “Why bother?” a peddler man asked Martha as she and her children were stopped along the street. "Don’t those masons know their talents are being wasted on a doomed construction?”

  The peddler had one thing right at least, that the stonemasons were talented - beyond measure. They produced such skilled and detailed carvings that it was truly wondrous to Martha to see their work take shape. In fact, the stones were so finely decorated that guards were placed to protect the stones from thieves.

  But Martha knew that those non-Mormons didn’t understand that the temple was much more than beautiful architecture, and it was certainly much more than a doomed construction. The temple served so sacred a purpose, its completion was first and foremost on the Saint’s minds. In the temple, they would be able to receive special blessings from the Lord and be sealed to their families for eternity. That is why the masons chiseled day in and day out, even through the blistering cold and as the hot sun beat down upon their backs. Martha was grateful for their sacrifice and welcomed the noise from the stonemasons. Each stone chiseled was one stone closer to the temple being opened.

  The temple grounds were a frenzy of activity and difficult to navigate. Several pulley systems were scattered about the open plot of land that made up the temple property. Martha watched as several men hoisted a monolithic, white stone up toward the top of the temple. The men sang sailor songs and heaved and hoed as they rhythmically wrenched the heavy stone into its final resting spot. Aisles and aisles of laborers, some men cutting wood, some chiseling stone, each served a different purpose in building the inside and outside of the temple. The construction was hastening on in order to finish by fall. The proliferation of thieves and arsonists made it a necessity to finish the temple quickly.

  Martha led her children through the construction zone, handing out bread to the workers they passed. Surely the laborers would be famished from all their efforts to complete the temple; many were poor and labored voluntarily without food or water, relying on people like Martha to bring them provisions. Eventually, they found a familiar face amongst the men.

  “Daddy!” Malinda and Sarah unanimously cried out as they leaped into their father’s arms, Johnnie toddling behind them.

  “It's good to see you all here!” Samuel said, bending down and planting kisses freely on his children. He saved one last kiss for Martha’s cheek.

  At Samuel’s station, a whetted metal hacksaw was half stuck inside a long block of wood. Since he was good with his hands building wooden furniture, he had been assigned to help build furniture for the temple’s interior.

  Martha took out a fresh roll and a bit of salt pork saved from breakfast from her basket and gave it to her husband. As Samuel ate, Martha looked up at the temple and admired its massive size. No matter how many times she had seen that building before, she was always surprised by its grandeur. There were 30 pilasters that rose up above her and formed the skeleton of the temple. At the foot of each pilaster was a stone with a downward-facing moon, and at the top of the pilasters was a stone with a sun and two trumpets above it.

  Malinda pointed up to the stones on the building and asked, “Papa, what do the stones with the suns on them mean?”

  “Do you see the clouds below the sun on that stone? The sun is breaking through those clouds. It symbolizes the dawning of the Restoration and the gospel illuminating the earth.” Samuel tore off a bit of salt pork with his teeth.

  “What Resor-a-sion?” Sarah inquired with a lisp.

  Samuel took Sarah upon his knee. “The Restoration is when the Lord Jesus Christ’s church was brought back to the earth, after being gone a very long time.”

  “Ohh,” Sarah said, a thoughtful look on her face.

  Johnnie reached up to his father’s bread roll, his little, chubby hands grabbing at the air. Samuel tore off a bite and handed it to his son.

  “What progress has been made today?” Martha asked, gesturing at the temple.

  “Quite a bit. The capstone is being chiseled as we speak. It should be ready to be placed soon!” Samuel declared happily.

  “The capstone?”

  “Yes,” Samuel said. He pointed to the top of the temple. “It’s the last stone to seal the exterior of the temple.”

  Martha noticed a man with a large mustache approaching them. “Brother Wilcox!” he called out. The man removed his hat as he drew close, tipping his head in greeting to Martha. “Hello, ma’am. I see you’ve brought some helpers. I could use them to help scrub the temple font.”

  Samuel laughed. “Yes, these are my children. Malinda, Sarah, John, and the littlest
one is Asenath.”

  “Ah, she’s a new lass. Congratulations.” The man shook Samuel’s hand. “If I could have a word with you when you’re not busy? I have some instruction to pass along to you from President Young.”

  Samuel glanced apologetically at Martha.

  “Come, we must let your father get back to work,” Martha said. She gathered the children and before they departed, left Samuel with another roll.

  Martha took one last look at the temple. It seemed like a beautiful dream to have the temple finished one day. But Martha wondered that it was just that - a dream - and the temple would never fully come to fruition. Its exterior was almost complete, but there was still so much on the inside that needed to be done. The basement, where the baptismal font was used, was still unpaved. And the upper levels of the temple interior were still under construction. The anti-Mormon mobs were strong and relentless. It was only a matter of time before they pushed the Saints out of Nauvoo once and for all. What would happen if the Saints were forced out before the temple was completed? No, Martha thought defiantly, so much has been accomplished, and so much more will be accomplished. The temple will be completed. The mobs can’t stop the Lord’s work.

  Chapter 8

  A New Beginning

  Lydia followed Lucy upstairs to her new room, which was to be shared with Martha’s younger sisters Annie and Beth. Lydia didn’t mind sharing the space; her cousins were almost like little sisters to her.

  “I’m afraid it's not much, but perhaps it will suit you for the time being,” Lucy said as she pushed open the door to Lydia’s new room and showed her inside.