A String of Pearls

CHAPTER III

MINISTERS APPOINT A MEETING TO EXPOSE "MORMONISM" – WE APPOINT ONE FOR THE SAME PURPOSE, AND THE SAMEDAY – MINISTERS FAIL TO APPEAR – OTHERS PREACH INSTEAD – WE FOLLOW – A BAPTIST ATTEMPTS TO REPLY – HIS CONTRADICTORY STATEMENT – FELLOW-PREACHER'S CHAGRIN – THE PREACHER'S CONCESSION.

In Surry Co., N. C., in 1868, Elder H. K. Coray and I had made out our appointments ahead for the first, second, fourth and fifth Sundays in August, but failed to get out an appointment for the third Sunday, although we had made every effort to do so.

On the morning of the first Sunday, Esquire William Hill came to us and reported that some Methodist ministers had given out an appointment for the bowery, at Cross Roads, at eleven o'clock a. m., on the third Sunday of that month, for the purpose of "exposing 'Mormonism.'"

The squire seemed very anxious for us to make an appointment for the same day and place, at two p. m., which, after due deliberation, we did, referring to the other meeting and its purpose, and then stating that we would, at our meeting, continue the exposition of "Mormonism."

The news of these appointments soon spread far and wide, as connected therewith was also the idea of a discussion.

Arriving at the place a little before eleven o'clock a. m., we found the people had filled up the bowery, and the woods also seemed to be alive with them.

But those ministers, after hearing that we would reply to their slander in the afternoon, failed to put in an appearance.

However, four others, two Methodists and two Missionary Baptists, attended the meeting.

Discourses were delivered by two of these divines, one of each denomination, neither of whom alluded to our people, or doctrines; but each, at the close of his sermon, gave liberty to any other minister to reply to any doctrines that had been advanced.

No one replying, their meeting closed at half-past one o'clock, at which time we announced that there would be a recess for thirty minutes, when our meeting would commence.

The intermission afforded them time for all to take dinner, as nearly all had brought lunch from their homes.

During the forenoon meeting, crowds of people were strolling through the adjacent woods, among the carriages, wagons and horses, and crowding about the well. But when our meeting commenced, all gathered in and about the bowery, into a vast and compact assemblage.

The contrast was apparent to all, and especially was it gratifying to us.

The Rev. Mr. Cordell, a Baptist, took his seat upon the stand with us. The Rev. Mr. Gray, a Methodist, sat in front and near the stand tilting himself back in his chair, with both thumbs inserted in the arm holes of his vest, looking as if he thought St. Paul's overcoat too small to make a vest pattern for him. The two others sat near Mr. Gray.

Our meeting opened. The discourse was upon the first principles of the gospel – faith, repentance, baptism, the bestowal of the Holy Ghost, the gifts and blessings enjoyed by the members, and the organization of the Church with Apostles, Prophets, etc.

Quotations from the Bible, in abundance, were brought forward to fully prove these points of doctrine.

The preachers and many of the people seemed to be very much astonished that it was such an easy matter to establish these doctrines by the scriptures. Especially did the Rev. Mr. Gray forget all his assumed dignity, and, leaning forward in his chair, looked as amazed as he could be, evidently realizing that he, for the first time in his life, was listening to the gospel.

At the close of the discourse, liberty was extended to any person present to make remarks upon the doctrines we had set forth.

The Rev. Mr. Cordell arose, and said, "I have belonged to the Missionary Baptist church for thirty years, and have been a minister of that church for twenty-five years of that time, and I have just listened to a discourse, setting forth the doctrines I have always, during that time, believed in and preached. Yet, I will not believe except Mr. Boyle will work a miracle, and, even then, I will not go to Utah."

Now this great preacher (for as such was he esteemed by the people who knew him), when he arose to his feet, was white as a ghost, and trembled from head to foot, really not knowing what he was saying.

I must confess that I was surprised at what he said, and so were nine-tenths of those present.

I could see the people all through the audience exchanging glances of astonishment, and many were really chagrined, and some actually laughing at the absurdity of what he was saying.

All knew what he said was false, when he asserted that he had always believed in and preached what he had just heard.

When he sat down, I called the attention of the people to the inconsistency of calling for a miracle, to make him believe what he professed to have believed and preached for twenty-five years. As to whether he had really made a truthful statement, I said I would leave them to decide, as they were all acquainted with his reverence and I was not. I also referred to the idea he seemed to entertain, that some one wished him to go to Utah. I was sure I had not invited him to go to Utah, neither did I believe any of my friends had.

His brother preacher remarked, next day, to Squire Hill, that he would not have had "Brother Cordell" so disgrace himself for five hundred dollars out of his own pocket.

The result of the meeting was good. The report of it went far and wide, and helped us to a great extent in our subsequent labors. A great many were soon afterwards baptized in that section, among them 'Squire Hill and five or six of his family.

We afterwards looked upon it as providential that we did not get out an appointment sooner for the third Sunday in August, 1868.

Apropos to this incident, I may mention that when I was in North Carolina, recently, I was informed by a number of persons that Mr. Cordell often asserts that the Latter-day Saints can prove all their doctrines by the scriptures, and that he never speaks evil of them.

CHAPTER IV

MY FIRST SERMON – REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF HELP FROM THE ALMIGHTY.

Never shall I forget the first time I was called upon to make an effort to preach the gospel. It was in Pittsylvania County, Virginia, in the month of June, 1844.

I had been ordained an Elder and set apart to take a mission to Virginia, in company with Elder Sebert C. Shelton.

My extreme youth prevented me from realizing the responsibilities of a mission. Being a beardless boy, it never occurred to me that I would be called upon to preach. Up to that time I never had been upon my feet to say a word in public.

At a meeting which had been advertised for two weeks, at the Methodist camp meeting ground, in a grove, in the County before mentioned, were gathered an assemblage of six or seven hundred men, women and children, priests, doctors and lawyers, the largest meeting I had ever witnessed up to that time.

I came to this meeting from one part of the County, and Elder Shelton was expected to come from another quarter. But the time to commence meeting had arrived, and Elder Shelton had not.

The audience was impatient. A party of three or four of the leading citizens waited upon me, to know if I would not address the meeting. There never had been a "Mormon" meeting in that County before, and they could not afford to be disappointed.

I was sitting near the center of the meeting (not realizing that the stand was my place) when these men made the inquiry.

If a battery of artillery had been discharged in our midst, I do not think it would have so startled me, as did this request.

For the first time I began to realize that it was my duty to try to advocate the religion I professed.

Just as I was going to answer that I would make an effort, Elder Shelton walked upon the stand, and this seemed to lift a mountain from my shoulders.

Brother Shelton looked wearied and sick, but opened the meeting with singing and prayer, and sang again before he discovered me in the audience. Then he immediately called upon me to come to the stand and preach, as he was too sick and feeble to attempt it.

To say I was scared, would scarcely convey a proper idea of my condition. I was in a tremor from head to feet, and shook like a leaf in a storm, scarcely knowing what I did.

I took up Elder Shelton's Bible which lay upon the front board, and without any premeditation, I opened at the third chapter of John, and read the fifth verse.

By the time I had finished reading, all my trembling had left me, and I felt as calm and collected as the quiet that succeeds the storm. The subjects of the first principles of the gospel were opened to me like print, only plainer and more powerful.

Faith, repentance, baptism for the remission of sins and the laying on of hands for the reception of the Holy Ghost, came to me in succession and in their order. And those priests, doctors, lawyers and people did not appear to me more formidable than so many butterflies.

No miracle ever performed by the power of God, could have had a more convincing effect upon me, than did the help that came to me through the power of the Holy Ghost on that occasion. And I am fully convinced in my own mind that never since have I preached a more effective discourse, nor one accompanied by more of the power of God.

CHAPTER V

MY SECOND SERMON, WHICH WAS NOT A SERMON – CONFIDENCE IN COMMENCING – SUBSEQUENT CHAGRIN – THE LESSON I LEARNED.

After delivering my first sermon or discourse I indulged in some very extravagant reflections and ideas relative to my great success.

I thought it easy enough for a "Mormon" to be a preacher. I considered it no wonder that Brother Jedediah M. Grant was such a splendid speaker. I never afterwards expected to have any trouble so far as preaching the gospel was concerned.

It never occurred to me that there was any chance for a failure. As the power and inspiration enabling me to preach came from God, it was, I thought, simply impossible for there to be any failure.

However, in this I was never more disappointed, as I will show:

In a few days after I preached my first sermon, and in the same neighborhood, we held another meeting, when Brother Shelton called on me again to preach. And when, in obedience to the call, I arose to my feet, it was with all the confidence and assurance possible. But to my surprise and chagrin, I could scarcely utter a word.

I was spiritually, mentally, and almost physically blind, and the power of darkness seemed to have complete control over me.

After struggling with this power for a few minutes, I sat down in confusion and shame, not having been able to speak one connected sentence.

Immediately, something seemed to say to me, "Now you have learned two important lessons: what you can do when the Lord helps you, and what you cannot do, without His help."

No doubt some of my young friends are ready to ask, "Why did you fail?" It may have been that I was not sufficiently humble, and perhaps had not given God the glory to that extent that I should.

The best reason, however, I think, was that the Lord designed to teach me a valuable lesson, which I am proud to say I have never forgotten; and to this day, when I arise to preach the gospel, I say: "O! my Father, help me on this occasion by Thy Holy Spirit."

JOURNEY ACROSS THE PLAINS

SURROUNDED BY INDIANS – PREPARE FOR AN ATTACK – SIGN OF PEACE – A LETTER – PIPE OF PEACE – THREE OF US ACCOMPANY THE INDIANS TO THEIR CAMP – CHAGRIN AT THE REPULSE – ROAD SWEPT CLEAR OF SNOW – MISSOURI RIVER FROZEN OVER – WE CROSS ON THE ICE, WHICH BREAKS AS THE LAST WAGON LEAVES IT.

In the latter part of October, 1849, a number of missionaries started from Salt Lake Valley to go to the States, among whom were several of the Twelve, who were going to introduce the gospel to foreign lands. Elder Erastus Snow was appointed to Denmark, Lorenzo Snow to Italy, myself, in company with John Pack and Curtis E. Bolton, to France, and Franklin D. Richards to England. We were accompanied to the States by Elder Jedediah M. Grant, Bishops Edward Hunter, A. O. Smooth, Edwin D. Woolley, Joseph Heywood and a number of other Elders and brethren. Several merchants also accompanied the expedition.

While journeying, we had a variety of singular adventures, and experienced some remarkable interpositions of providence during the trip, some of which I will relate.

When we arrived at a point some distance west of Laramie, as we turned out our horses, at noon, suddenly a large body of Indians, amounting in number to a hundred or a hundred and fifty, appeared in sight.

They were evidently on the lookout for a body of Crows, a hostile tribe of Indians, who had hovered around us for some time on our journey.

As they first came in sight they swept along with all the abandon of the red man, and their appearance was really very imposing. They were perhaps a mile from us when we first saw them.

I was very much interested in their appearance, as they came dashing down upon us on their fiery steeds, in warlike costume.

The manes and tails of their horses were painted various colors; and the Indians themselves, painted and arrayed in their richest and gayest styles, prepared for war, presented a magnificent aspect.

But our personal safety soon led us to other reflections.

While a part of the company immediately gathered up the horses, another part attended to our firearms; and before the Indians reached us, we had formed a line for defense, with our guns and pistols all prepared for anything that might transpire.

The Indians rode to within about two rods of us, and then made a halt; and as we had our guns leveled at them, they immediately assumed a hostile attitude. Some of them having flint-lock guns, commenced pecking their flints and making ready for firing, and others wet their finger ends and placed their arrows in their bows, preparatory to an encounter.

While thus engaged on both sides, waiting for anything that might transpire, a fat, jolly-looking Indian came lumbering up on horseback, not having been able to keep pace with his more youthful companions. He held up both hands, and, as I understood this was a sign of peace, and that he evidently desired to avoid any collision, I went out to meet him. He then produced a paper, which stated that these Indians were peaceable and friendly. It was signed by a Major Sanderson, who was then commanding at Fort Laramie.

Although their attitude did not bespeak the most pacific intentions, we, of course, received the statement with as good a grace as possible.

While waiting, several Indians attempted to pass us on the flank. When he saw this, Brother Grant, who had assumed command of the company for the time being, ordered a number of men to level their guns at them, which caused them to remain.

As we could not talk with them nor they to us, and as no interpreters were present, we had to judge by signs as best we could.

They pointed out to us several sentinels placed on the tops of mountains in different directions, and intimated by signs that they wanted these men to go to them, so we permitted them to pass.

The chief then touched his mouth or tongue, and we supposed that they desired something to eat. I made a motion for the chief to move his men back, which he did. They sat down and we furnished them with beef, crackers, tobacco, etc.; but we found that they were not hungry, and that they were anxious to talk with us.

We smoked the pipe of peace with them, and then harnessed our horses and prepared to start, when they formed a line on each side of us; each of our men, as a precautionary measure, taking his gun in his hand as he drove his team.

The chief expressed a desire to have some of us go to his camp, which, he informed us by signs, was not far off. Lorenzo Snow, Bishop Hunter and I accompanied him, and our train moved on its course.

The camp, which was about three miles from our own encampment, we found to be very large. The Indians were very well-formed, athletic men, and good specimens of their race. There were a great many respectable-looking lodges, and I should suppose about three thousand horses grazing about.

When we met them the chief seemed somewhat chagrined, and we thought that the repulse of his men by us was the cause.

There was a Frenchman at the camp, who acted as interpreter during our interview. In our conversation the chief asked us why we had assumed a warlike attitude towards his people.

We told him that we were not acquainted with them, and thought it best to be prepared. We did not know but that they were some of the Crows, who had been hovering around us.

They were anxious to know about the Crows, having heard that they were going to steal some horses from them. After a short and pleasant interview, we left and joined our camp.

That night we put out a strong guard around our horses, and the same night the Crows stole a good many horses from these Indians, as well as the horses of some trappers who were in the immediate vicinity; but ours were not molested.

On reaching Fort Laramie we were very courteously received and kindly treated by Major Sanderson.

As it was late in the fall, the snow began to descend and the whole country was covered to about twelve inches in depth.

Immediately after we crossed the south fork of the Platte River we met with a very remarkable circumstance which we were led to look upon as a providential occurrence and the interposition of the Almighty in our behalf. Along the road that we traveled all the way from there to Fort Kearney, the snow had been blown from the road the entire distance, as if swept by a broom, leaving a clear track for us to travel upon.

It was very difficult to find nutritious food for our animals, the grass having been killed by the frost, and before we reached the Missouri River many of them failed and a number died.

The very last day before we arrived, we encountered a very severe snow storm, which made it extremely difficult for the animals to move, and many of them gave out. After much difficulty we arrived at an old deserted fort, on the Missouri River, parties bringing in the wearied animals as best they could.

Although an old deserted log house, with large openings between the logs, and without windows and doors, was the only shelter afforded us, I am not aware of any time in my life when I experienced a greater sense of providential interposition and relief than I did with that temporary refuge from the storm.

We stayed there the next day and found a family, in the immediate vicinity who cooked and provided for us. We found that the ice was running very strong in the Missouri River, and that it was impossible to ferry across.