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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

The Work and the Glory (319 page)

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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“Then what is it?” Benjamin asked.

Carl looked at his wife, and when she nodded her encouragement he went on, excitement making him speak more quickly. “Actually, I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s going on here in Nauvoo. There’s so much building and growth going on. And . . . well, you know how expensive lumber is, having to bring it in from the East and all that?”

“I certainly do,” Benjamin agreed. That was a major issue that the temple building committee was wrestling with at this very time. Illinois was part of the Great Plains and had few natural stands of timber. There were a few trees along the river and the numerous streams, but these were limited and were not ideal for sawing into long planks. So to this point, most of the homes built in Nauvoo were log cabins or mud-and-board shanties, with only a few frame homes here and there. Eastern lumber was coming down the Ohio and then up the Mississippi, but it was very expensive. With cash money scarce and barter the major means of commerce in Nauvoo, purchase of sufficient lumber to build a home was very difficult.

“So what if we make a brick kiln?” Carl said.

It took a moment for that to register with both Mary Ann and Benjamin. “A brick kiln?” Benjamin finally said.

“Yes. One of those British people that came in a month or so ago was in the stable the other day. He used to work the big pottery kilns in England. He says making bricks shouldn’t be a whole lot different. He’s been along the bluffs and down by the riverbanks. He says there’s plenty of good clay in the area.”

Benjamin leaned back. “A brick kiln? Well, well. What an interesting idea.”

Carl nodded. “Anyway, the more I’ve thought about it, the more intrigued I am with the idea. This is something that is really needed here. I’m enjoying the work with Joshua, but he doesn’t need me. I’m just there to keep the books.” Now he frowned. “But will Joshua be hurt after all he’s done for us?”

Benjamin leaned back, pulling thoughtfully on one ear. “Well, there’s one way to find out. Let’s get Joshua over here.”

Carl flinched a little. “You mean right now?”

“I do,” Benjamin chuckled. “I think it’s time for another family council. I think we ought to bring Nathan and Lydia too.”

“Of course I’m not going to be upset,” Joshua said, shaking his head at the notion that Carl would even think such a thing. “It sounds like a great idea to me.”

“You really think so?” Carl asked.

“Yes, I do. In fact, I’ve been wrestling with exactly the same problem in my own mind.”

“What problem?” Nathan asked.

“The problem of the shortage of lumber and the cost of bringing it in from the East.”

“Can’t you bring in lumber more cheaply than others are doing it?” Lydia asked. “You’ve already got the freight business set up to do that sort of thing.”

Joshua shrugged. “Maybe a little. But that isn’t the answer. Every mile you carry something, whether it’s by wagon, boat, or mule, costs you money. We’re just too far from the eastern lumber mills.”

“So brick is one answer?” Melissa asked hopefully.

“It certainly is,” Joshua replied. “And I feel like a fool for not having thought of it before. It is a brilliant idea, Carl.”

The relief on Carl’s face was openly visible. It was going to be all right. “Thank you. I think we can make a go of it.”

“Make a go of it?” Joshua exclaimed. “With you being the first one in, I think you’re going to find yourself with more demand than you can supply.”

“I agree,” Benjamin said, “but that doesn’t solve the lumber problem. You can’t build a temple with nothing but bricks.”

Joshua looked smug. “That’s why you and me and Nathan are going to take a little trip upriver to Wisconsin Territory.” He laughed aloud at the expression on their faces. Even Caroline was dumbfounded.

“Wisconsin?” Nathan finally managed.

“They say up there, there are pine forests that stretch from horizon to horizon, as far as the eye can see. Millions of trees and straight as a nail.”

“But that’s six hundred miles from here,” Carl said, “with not a lot of good roads between here and there. How’s that going to help keep the price down?”

Now Joshua looked pleased. “Are you forgetting the greatest wagon of them all?”

Carl looked puzzled. Lydia and Melissa were watching Joshua closely, not understanding. But Nathan saw it instantly. “The Mississippi.”

“You mean by boat?” Mary Ann asked.

“No, by raft,” said Joshua. “Lumber rafts. Just get that lumber to the river during the winter when the ground is hard enough to carry sleds and wagons. Then when the ice breaks up, you just tie them logs together with a lot of rope and float them right on down to Nauvoo. No horses to feed, no teamsters to worry about. Just a hundred thousand board feet of lumber coming downriver like a great raft from heaven itself.”

Nathan was nodding. It was brilliant. The brickyard was brilliant, but it was only part of the solution. Reasonably priced lumber was the other half of the answer. He looked at Lydia. She was still trying to digest it. He reached out and took her hand, but he was looking at Joshua. “So when do we leave?”

Will hurried along the wharf, moving around the people who walked at a more leisurely pace than him. It had been nearly eighteen months since he had last been on the New Orleans docks, but he still felt right at home. He smiled. He felt more at home right now than he had felt in a long time. This was the last major stopping place. A week upriver and it would be over.

As he rounded the corner of one of the big cotton warehouses, he saw the Mormons, clustered on the dock not far from the customshouse. Theodore Turley and John Benbow were back and immediately broke off from the group when they saw him. On board, Turley and Benbow had jointly shared leadership, but since disembarking this morning and moving through customs, it was clear that Turley had taken the lead. Though English, he had lived in America for several years before returning with the Twelve. On board, he had seemed a bit stern to Will, particularly compared to John Benbow’s warm openness, but when Will approached him and offered to help find a riverboat and book passage, he proved to be pleasant and congenial.

Will saw the crowd edging closer to their leaders so they could hear about their fate. He also saw that Jenny Pottsworth and her mother were near the front. “Did you have any luck?” he asked of Turley.

Both men nodded. “The shipping company says they have two boats leaving tomorrow,” Turley explained. “The one is too small for our group, but the other, the
Blue Bay,
has plenty of room.”

John Benbow leaned forward. “And the customshouse has promised to have our large trunks cleared by morning. So what do you think?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw that Jenny was watching him closely, and there was a little bit of mockery in her eyes. He could almost hear her saying it: Look at Mr. Big, playing the expert with these dumb Mormons.

He turned away from her. “I think it looks all right.”

“You think we should give them the money, then?” Turley asked.

“When does it leave?” Will asked.

“Noon.”

“Tell them you want to take boarding immediately. That way you won’t have to try and find a place to stay tonight.”

“Is that allowed?” Benbow asked in surprise.

Both Turley and Will nodded together. “If they don’t have all the quarters ready, some of us can sleep on deck,” Will explained. “It might be a little chilly, but it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Thank you, young man,” Turley said, extending his hand. As Will shook it, the missionary leader went on. “I have never met your father personally, but I heard about what he did for your family during the siege of Far West. You have every reason to be proud. I do know your uncle Nathan and your grandfather and grandmother very well. It will be a pleasure to have you travel with us.”

“Thank you,” Will responded, feeling a little guilty that he had thought the man to be stern. Then he had an idea. “Would you like me to take the people to the boat while you go and purchase the tickets?”

“Good idea.” He turned. “Folks, we have passage. We leave tomorrow at noon.”

A cheer went up and several clapped their hands together. They were glad to be off the ship and on land, but they were also as ready as Will to get the journey done with. They had set sail from Liverpool on September eighth. Today was October twenty-fourth. That meant six weeks at sea with only brief stops at New York, Savannah, and Tallahassee. The weariness showed in their bodies and in their faces, but so did their excitement to know they were about to begin the last leg.

“Mr. Steed here will be traveling with us,” Turley went on. “He has family in Nauvoo too. So if you’ll follow him, he’ll show you the way to go. Brother Benbow and I will go purchase our tickets. We shall sleep on the boat tonight.”

As the people sprang into action, grabbing suitcases and valises, trunks, baskets, fabric sacks, or whatever else they carried their things in, Will saw Jenny reach down and pick up the same heavy trunk she had brought aboard. It wasn’t a full-size sailing trunk, but it was larger than most valises or cases and she lifted it with some effort.

Will stepped forward. “May I help you with that?” he offered.

She swung around, surprised. Then her face darkened. “I thought crew members weren’t allowed to help with the luggage.”

“I’m not crew anymore,” he said evenly, trying to hold his temper.

“You are to me,” she snapped.

“Jenny Pottsworth, you stop that this instant.” Abigail Pottsworth was onto her daughter angrily and yanking the case from her hand. “This young man has apologized to us, and we’ll not be treating him so flippantly if you don’t mind.” She handed the case to Will. “We’d be most appreciative of your help, thank you.”

Jenny picked up a smaller case and stepped around them, her head held high. Will watched her flounce away, amused and intrigued and irritated all at the same time. He let her reach the street and start to turn the corner, then called out, softly laughing to himself. “Not that way, Miss Pottsworth. That’s the way to the sailing docks. Unless you want to return to England, you’d better go the other way. The riverboat docks are to the left, up the street.”

She spun around without a word and went the opposite direction.

The sky was clear, the stars so brilliant and so numerous as to make the mind hurt with the contemplating of their numbers. The moon was little more than a sliver just coming up in the eastern sky, but the lights on the far shore gave definition to the wide expanse of river that moved slowly past him.

Will watched the moon, lost in thought. Some six or seven hundred miles north of where he now stood, this same moon would be visible over the place they called Nauvoo. Was his father even now standing on the porch and looking up at it? Was his mother there too, holding the baby brother he had never seen? Were Olivia and Savannah there with them, counting the same stars that filled the sky over his head? Probably not, he decided. The night air here was cool and pleasant, but that far north it would likely be putting frost on the ground about now. His family would be inside, but still under the same moon and stars and sky.

For six weeks now he had lived with the news that his father wasn’t dead. He could scarcely believe it. There had been too many months of numbing pain, too many months of wishing there had been even a chance for one last farewell to his father. There was also the pain of living with his own stupidity, knowing that his bravado attempt to track down his father’s killers had cost him two years away from his family. Now that was all the more bitter. It wasn’t just his mother’s company he had lost for two years.

A sound behind him brought him around. It was Mrs. Pottsworth and Jenny, walking slowly along the deck toward him. He straightened, unconsciously tensing in preparation for another verbal jousting match.

“Good evening, Mr. Steed.”

Will inclined his head slightly. “Mrs. Pottsworth. Miss Jenny.”

“Good evening,” Jenny said, her voice bland and unreadable.

“We’ve come out to enjoy the evening. I had heard there were such places on the earth, where even in the dead of winter one could walk about in one’s shirtsleeves, but I never thought I’d live to see it.”

Will turned and looked out across the river. “And there are places south of here, in the Caribbean, that would make this seem like a very cold night.”

“And I suppose you’ve seen them all,” Jenny said.

There wasn’t anything definite in her voice but Will sensed the challenge. So did her mother, for she shot her a dirty look. But Will’s previous mood was still on him and he was not willing to launch into another round of contention. “Only a few,” he said.

“Like where?” Mrs. Pottsworth asked, genuinely interested.

He half turned, so he didn’t have to watch Jenny’s face. “Mexico. Cuba. Jamaica.”

“What about China?” Jenny asked. “I thought you’d been to China.”

He turned his head, but this time was surprised to see that she was watching him openly, without any rancor. “Yes, Canton was very warm too. We were there in January and saw many of the coolies working without their shirts.”

“Coolies?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s what they call their laborers over there.”

“Well, I declare,” Mrs. Pottsworth said. “No shirts in January.”

Jenny was looking at him narrowly. “You’re not just funning with us, are you?”

He laughed. “No, I swear.”

“You’ve seen so much for a young man,” her mother said.

“Not by any choice of mine,” he muttered softly.

Just then Mrs. Pottsworth spied someone going inside the main cabin. She leaned forward, peering. “Oh, there’s Brother Benbow. I have a question for him.” She started away.

Jenny, watching Will steadily, called after her. “I’ll be along shortly, Mum.”

Mrs. Pottsworth waved airily. “All right.”

Caught by surprise, Will watched Jenny for a moment, then blushed when she caught him at it. He turned back to lean against the rail. In a moment, she did the same, a few feet away from him. They stood there for almost a minute before she spoke again. “It’s so big,” she breathed softly.

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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