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  “I suppose,” Sister Jackson said. “They’re here and preparing to join us in the handcart company.”

  “Well, well,” Jane James said. “So Brother Jaques’s letter did some good.” Then she shook her head ruefully. “I’ll bet there will be some interesting conversations in the Loader tent tomorrow.”

  Then Maggie had another thought. “Why didn’t the Jaqueses look for the Loaders when you came through New York?”

  “Because we came through Boston,” Aaron replied.

  “Oh.” Then, thoughtfully, she said one more thing. “I wish I could meet this Brother Loader.”

  Jane James looked at her in surprise. “Why is that, Maggie?”

  “Because when I finally read Brother Jaques’s letter, I decided that Brother Loader must not have much faith.” Her mouth pulled down. “I judged a man whom I had never met. Now it sounds like I was wrong.”

  II

  Saturday, 12 July 1856

  Maggie, Sarah, Emma, Hannah, and Ingrid Christensen were down by the river. They had come to do the laundry, but that had been finished over an hour ago. Generally on Saturday the Church agents left the day free so that the people could catch up on personal items such as laundry, mending, and such. Ingrid, who had now been in the same tent as the McKensie and the James families for almost two weeks, was just as much a part of their families as the other four. Now that the wash was stretched out across the bushes to dry, they lay back on the grassy bank, staring up through the canopy of leaves at the clouds above them. As usual, it only took a few minutes before the conversation turned to love, romance, courtship, and marriage. Maggie didn’t mind, really, as she would have in the early weeks on the ship. It drew the five of them closer together and provided a welcome escape from the daily drudgery of sewing tents, drying meat, gathering berries, cooking, doing laundry, or tending children. At the moment the conversation had turned to Olaf Pederson, with Emma and Hannah doing most of the talking.

  “It’s much too soon,” Emma James said coyly. “He’s only sixteen. You know, he had his birthday on board ship just like I did.”

  “But,” Hannah came right back, “by next summer, when we’re settled in our new homes, we’ll all be seventeen then.”

  Sarah gave Maggie a quick look, her eyes mischievous, then spoke to her sister. “Emma, what if Olaf and Eric are sent off to colonize one of the new settlements while our family stays in Great Salt Lake City?”

  Emma turned in surprise, a frown creasing her brow. “Do you think they will be?”

  Maggie decided to join Sarah in teasing these two dreamers with stars in their eyes. A little touch of reality might be good for the both of them. “Elder Ahmanson told me that many of the Scandinavians are going down south about a hundred miles in an area they call Sanpete Valley. There are several new settlements there named after scriptural figures—Moroni, Manti, Ephraim.”

  “But—,” Hannah started, then saw through what they were doing. “They’re just trying to get a reaction from us, Emma.”

  But Maggie shook her head. “There is more to it than just teasing you, you know,” she said. “President Young wants to colonize the whole Great Basin. The chances of our families ending up in the same place as Olaf is not very high.”

  The two girls exchanged a look of dismay. “Then we’ll just have to marry him before he gets sent away somewhere.”

  “So it is we now for sure?” Sarah teased.

  The two of them instantly blushed, looking at each other from beneath lowered brows, but they didn’t revise their statement. “We can work it out,” Hannah said archly.

  Now Sarah got suddenly wistful. “I suppose if it were the right man,” she said, “being the second wife wouldn’t make that much difference. Especially if you really loved the first wife as your sister in the gospel.”

  Maggie turned, trying not to look surprised. Did Sarah feel that strongly about Eric? There was no question but that it was about Eric that she was thinking. So she knew she didn’t stand much chance with him. So she was willing to—

  Sarah had seen Maggie’s look. She sat up and folded her arms around her knees. “Well, if you believe the principle was given by God through Joseph Smith, then it shouldn’t make any difference, should it? I mean, otherwise you’d be saying that the second or the third wife wasn’t as important as the first, wouldn’t you? And I don’t believe that.”

  Ingrid sat up too, but she was looking at the ground. “I would be willing to be the third wife,” she said softly.

  “I guess in a way Sarah’s right,” Emma started to say. Then suddenly she stopped and spun around to stare at Ingrid. Hannah was gaping too. Ingrid’s cheeks were deep red and she wouldn’t look up.

  Maggie began to nod slowly. I thought so. Now that she was staying in their tent, Ingrid was almost always around when Emma and Hannah fantasized about Olaf. Maggie had noticed her turn away or look down and not say anything at those times. And why not? She was sixteen too, actually a few months older than Emma. She simply hadn’t dared say anything before.

  “You like Olaf too?” Hannah said slowly, her eyes wide with wonder.

  Ingrid’s head bobbed. Her entire face was scarlet now.

  Hannah and Emma looked at each other, and for a moment Maggie was afraid they were going to say something that would deeply wound their new friend. But then Hannah sat up and moved over beside Ingrid. She put an arm around her and hugged her tightly. “Maybe they’ll let all three of us be number one,” she said softly. “If not, I’ll be number three.”

  Maggie had to look away, for suddenly tears sprang to her eyes. Since their baptism, she and Hannah had talked about the possibility that they might be taken in plural marriage some day. Maggie had prayed mightily about the principle of plural marriage as part of her seeking for the truthfulness of the Church. No direct answer came, but she did get a powerful witness that Joseph Smith was God’s prophet and seer. It followed, therefore, that since he had taught the principle, it had to be from God. But that still hadn’t made it easy to accept. She knew now that in the back recesses of her mind, one of the reasons she had been glad that she would be marrying James MacAllister was that he was not a member of the Church. Since only the most faithful of the brethren were ever allowed to take other wives, it seemed like the perfect solution.

  Hannah, in the height of her developing womanhood, had been even more troubled by the question, though outwardly she had avowed that she could accept the principle if ever asked to live it. But more than once she had quietly expressed the hope that her future husband would not be one of the small number of brethren who were asked to live plural marriage. It was only about twenty-five percent of the men who did so; that left a pretty good chance that she wouldn’t have to worry about it. So now to have her so openly embrace the possibility because of her love for these two friends touched Maggie so profoundly that she could not stop from wanting to weep. As much as she loved Sarah and as close as they had become, Maggie still wasn’t sure she could share a husband with another, even Sarah. Would she ever be able to put aside the fear that she, Maggie, would always be the plain one in her husband’s sight? that Sarah would be the more loved because of her beauty and sweetness? She pulled a face. Sweetness was not Maggie’s strongest quality. Now, if you were looking for a good streak of stubbornness mingled with a talent for tartness . . . She sighed. Even as she recognized the depth of her feelings for Sarah, she couldn’t readily consider sharing a husband with her.

  “Maggie?”

  They all jumped as though a rifle had just been fired in their midst. Whirling, they saw Eric and Olaf coming through the trees towards them, now just a few yards away. They leaped to their feet, brushing at their skirts. Sarah’s hand was at her mouth, her eyes wide. She half turned so that her back was toward them. “Did they hear us?” she mouthed.

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she whispered, but even as she spoke she was desperately trying to remember the last thing that had been said.


  “Oh, what if they did?” Emma wailed softly. “I’ll never be able to look Olaf in the face again.”

  Maggie could feel the rush of blood to her cheeks. Emma was right. If they had heard, even the tiniest bit, it was too horrible to contemplate. Then she glanced at her three friends and her sister and laughed out loud. Hannah and Emma and Ingrid were trying to look nonchalant, but their faces looked more as if Eric and Olaf had somehow walked in on them when they were dressed only in their petticoats.

  “Hello,” Olaf cried. “What are you doing?”

  Sarah recovered most quickly. She hadn’t said anything for long enough that she felt she was safe. “Laundry,” she admitted.

  Eric hooted. “Lying down?”

  Maggie laughed too. “We have to watch it carefully to make sure it dries well.”

  The brothers pushed through the bushes and joined them now. Eric became serious again. “There is meeting.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Your mother and Sister James asked us to find you.” He looked at Ingrid. “I told your uncle you would be with them too.”

  “Brother Willie said all should come,” Olaf added.

  Maggie looked at the laundry drying on the bushes around them. “How soon?”

  Both brothers looked blank. “How soon?” Olaf echoed. “What is meaning that?”

  “How soon means when does the meeting start?”

  “Ah.” Eric understood now. “Very soon. Come now. Is at Elder Spencer’s wagon. They will make group lists now.”

  “Really?” Maggie said in surprise. She felt her heart leap. The Church agents had been talking now for several days about being almost ready for departure. If they were ready to make up the company roster, that was a very good sign. “Is it for everyone?”

  “Including the new people?” Sarah asked in surprise.

  Now Eric shook his head. “No. Only Elder Willie’s people.”

  That made more sense, Maggie thought. The second group of emigrants under the direction of Brother Edward Martin which had arrived in Iowa City four days before were now all at the Mormon campground. Like their own company, the second group had plunged into the Herculean task of getting a full company of handcarts ready.

  “All right,” Maggie said. “Tell our mothers we’ll be right there as soon as we get the laundry folded.”

  Eric nodded and both he and Olaf turned and walked away, talking easily with each other.

  Hannah sank back down to the earth. “What if Olaf heard us, Maggie? What will we do?”

  She laughed, sure now that if the Pedersons had overheard anything she would have seen it in their eyes. “Well, you know,” she said lightly, “if you three are going to marry him, someday he is going to have to be told too.”

  Chapter Notes

  “The Handcart Song,” which Maggie has her class sing in the novel, was written by John Daniel Thompson McAllister. The complete lyrics are found in Hafen and Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, pp. 272–73.

  The shipload of emigrants that was led by Edward Martin and that sailed on the ship Horizon left Liverpool on 25 May 1856, approximately three weeks after the Willie group had left. They arrived in Boston on 28 June and came by rail and steamer to Iowa City, arriving there on 8 July (see Turner, Emigrating Journals, pp. 82–87; Bell, Life History and Writings of John Jacques, pp. 83–87, 95–101).

  The family of Aaron and Elizabeth Jackson are actual people. Elizabeth Horrocks was born in Cheshire, England, in 1826. Her father was one of those converted by the early missionaries to England. Elizabeth joined the Church at age fifteen, about a year after her parents were converted. She married Aaron Jackson of Derbyshire, England, in 1848. They had their three children with them as they set out for Zion in 1856: Martha Ann, who was seven; Elizabeth, who would turn five on the trail; and Aaron, who was two (see Kingsford, Leaves from the Life of Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson Kingsford, pp. 1–2).

  John Jaques, who was introduced in chapter 4, was part of the company who arrived in Iowa City on 8 July. He was traveling with his wife, Zilpah, and their two-year-old daughter, Flora, and with Zilpah’s unmarried sister, Tamar Loader. To their utter surprise, the Jaqueses found the Loader family waiting for them when they arrived.

  Based on the two letters that were published in the Millennial Star (see the notes for chapter 4), one might easily conclude that James Loader’s faith was wavering somewhat. From an account written by Patience later, it is evident that perhaps Jaques had misjudged his father-in-law. On arriving in New York the previous winter, James Loader had found work as a gardener in New York City and seems to have been making a good living at it. The Loaders decided they would go by wagon train to Utah once the rest of the family arrived and they had earned enough money to buy a wagon and team. Then they learned about the plan to go by handcart, and that’s when Patience wrote to her brother-in-law. She continues the story:

  We were still waiting further orders from Liverpool before we made any move to leave New York.

  One day Brother Stenhouse [T.B.H. Stenhouse, who was serving with President John Taylor in New York City] came from President Taylor’s office. He said, “Do you know that your name is in the Millennial Star, Brother Loader? You are thought to be apostatizing from the Church. It says that Father Loader, has brought his family out of one part of Babylon and now wants to settle down in another part of Babylon.” This hurt my poor father’s feelings very much. He said to mother, “I cannot stand to be accused of apostacy. I will show them better. Mother, I am going to Utah. I will pull the handcart if I die on the road.” We all knew if our father said he would go that we would all have to go for he would never leave any of us in New York. . . . We all gave notice to quit work and got ready to leave New York on the third of July 1856. (In Bell, Life History and Writings of John Jaques, pp. 92–93)

  Patience says that she and her family had been in the camp at Iowa City a “few days” when her sisters and brother-in-law arrived. However, if she is correct that they didn’t leave New York until 3 July, and knowing that the Martin Company arrived in Iowa City on 8 July, it is more likely that the Loaders had arrived just the day before the Jaqueses, as is shown here.

  Though the Church began the practice of plural marriage in Nauvoo while Joseph Smith was still alive, it was not taught publically until 1852. In our day it has become popular in drama and literature to depict the early sister Saints as viewing the principle as abhorrent, something they accepted only under duress. While undoubtedly many found it so, the journals and histories of that time clearly show that many women accepted the principle as having been given by revelation. They willingly (not begrudgingly) accepted the practice. In many cases they saw it as a blessing to them personally as well as to the Church. Some record that the love and the companionship of their sister wives were of sublime and profound importance to them. Thus, while some readers may think it unbelievable that young single women would so easily accept the possibility of plural marriage as Maggie, Sarah, Emma, Hannah, and Ingrid do in this chapter, the records of some of the early sister Saints exhibit that very kind of openness to the principle.

  Chapter 9

  Iowa City, Iowa

  I

  Saturday, 12 July 1856

  “Brothers and Sisters.” There was a strong breeze blowing and Brother Daniel Spencer had to speak loudly in order to be heard. The people were crowded in tightly around him. “Those of you who came over on the Thornton with Brother Willie have been here just over two weeks now. You have worked hard. We now have enough tents and handcarts for your company. More than you need, in fact. The extra ones will be given to Brother Martin’s group and will hopefully lessen the time they will have to be here.

  “Your company, which will actually be the fourth company of the season, will be leaving very shortly. About five hundred of you have been assigned to that company.” He motioned, and Brother Willie stepped forward, climbing up to stand beside him.

  “Brother James G. Willie has been asked to serv
e as captain of the fourth company.”

  The group nodded. Willie was not only greatly respected but also widely liked by the people.

  “As his subcaptains of hundreds, we have asked the following to serve.” He looked down at five men waiting beside the wagon. “Brother Millen Atwood, first hundred.” Atwood stepped forward and raised an arm. “Brother Levi Savage, second hundred.” The missionary who had been sent to Siam and was finally on his way home moved up beside Atwood. “Brother William Woodward, third hundred. That hundred will include most of you who are from Scotland.” There was a smattering of applause from the Scottish contingent. Brother Woodward grinned and waved a hand at them. “Brother John Chislett will captain the fourth hundred”—again he let the man step forward—“and John, or Johan, Ahmanson will lead the fifth hundred. The Scandinavians will be in Brother Ahmanson’s group, of course.”

  As the tall Dane translated that quickly for his group, there were murmurs of satisfaction and mild applause. They were pleased to be led by one of their own. Brother Spencer went right on. “We have now made the assignments to the five groups of hundreds. Within each group there will be five people per handcart, which means twenty handcarts per hundred on the average. There will be four handcarts per tent, five tents per hundred. Your handcart group will also be your ‘mess group,’ or the group you cook and eat with. As much as possible, we have kept families together.

  “Now, brothers and sisters,” he said, “we have to get ready to leave. As you were told before you ever left Europe, handcarts are limited in how much they can carry. For now you will only have to carry your own personal belongings. The tents, flour, tools, and other foodstuffs will be carried in the five wagons that will accompany you. At Florence, Nebraska, that will change, but for now the lighter loads will give you a chance to toughen up, to get into physical shape before we start out across the wilderness. When you leave Florence you will each have to carry an additional hundred pounds of flour in the cart, or you will not have enough to see you through to the point where we meet the supply wagons from the Valley.”