Life of a Pioneer: The Autobiography of James S. Brown. James S. Brown

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      As time went on the older people in our neighborhood took interest in the Mormon Elders, and some of them joined the new Church, while others became very intolerant and hostile. My parents and my eldest brother and sister united with the Mormons; yet I held back, for though fully in sympathy with what my relatives had done I did not consider myself worthy to join, for I thought that to be a church member I must have some great experience and see great lights, such as I had heard people testify of. Thus I stayed out and watched developments.

      Finally, in July, 1844, the news reached us that the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum, the Patriarch, had been assassinated in Carthage jail by a mob; also, that the Mormons had been ordered to leave the state, and were going either to the Rocky Mountains, California, or Vancouver Island. In fact, there were many kinds of rumors afloat, and there was great excitement.

      In the fall of 1845 permission was given me to go to a river town five miles from home, to work at a slaughter and packing house, where my cousin, Homer Jackson, and I got employment that season. We heard that the Mormons were going to start west the next spring—in fact, their purpose was a topic of frequent conversation. We returned home in the latter part of January, 1846, and soon learned that the Church leaders were leaving Nauvoo for a new home in the unknown western wilds, and that every true Mormon was expected to join them as soon as possible.

      Shortly after this, father called a family meeting to consider what to do. It was a great venture to start out with a large family on a journey of a thousand miles or more into an unknown wilderness, among savage tribes; so after long discussion of the matter, it was decided to be too great an undertaking at that particular time. It was regarded as inadvisable to take the chances of starving to death in the wilderness. Besides, property was very low, and it was folly to sell out a good home at so great a sacrifice as seemed necessary.

      When this decision was reached, father turned to me and said: "Well, Jimmy, what do you think about it?" I answered that where the Mormons went I would go, and where they died I would die. This was the first time I had been asked a question, and as I was not a member of the Church my reply surprised the others. Being inquired of as to how I would go, I suggested that perhaps someone wanted a teamster, or maybe there was some widow who would take a boy for his labor in return for food and clothing. Father asked if I would leave the family and go out west and starve; and he suggested that as I did not belong to the Mormons they would not have me. To this I said I would join them, and that my mind was made up to go with the Mormons at all hazards. Then father ordered me to keep quiet, saying he would thrash me if I talked of leaving home. This closed the discussion, for in those days thrashing was the great panacea for disobedience, whether at home or in the school room. But that threat clinched my resolve to go with the Mormons even at the risk of life, for I was thoroughly satisfied of the justice of their cause.

      I said no more then, but at the first opportunity told my mother that soon I would come up missing, as I was going with the Mormons, and should hide if searched for, if I had to go among the Indians. Mother said I would starve, but my reply was that I could live on what others did. My mother was convinced that I would go, and her mother's heart was as so touched that she could not withhold my secret from my father, who believed, too, that I would do as I had said.

      One evening, soon afterward, I overheard them talking of the matter. Father said it would break up the family if they did not move west, for Jim certainly would go; they were satisfied that the Mormon doctrines were true, and thought that perhaps they had better make an effort to sell out and move. My heart was filled with joy at these words.

      When morning came, father set out to buy oxen, and was successful. He also sold his farm but reserved the crop, as he had to wait till after harvest for part of his pay for the land. He thought that by fitting out two good teams, and providing wagons and tools, he and Alexander Stephens (mother's brother) and two of his sisters (old maids), and myself could go out into Iowa, where we could put in some corn and build a cabin or two. Then my uncle and I could do the rest while father returned, took care of the harvest, and brought up the family, when we would follow the Church as best we could until a resting place was found.

      The way now seemed open. My father felt encouraged, and all went well until a few days before the time for starting, when I was stricken down with fever and ague, and shook or chilled every other day till the first of May, at which time all was ready for moving. Efforts were made to persuade me that I could not stand the journey, but should allow one of the other boys to go in my stead. But I could not see it in that light. While father was talking of the matter to mother I overheard him say, "We will have to let James go, for he will not be satisfied without, but he will get enough of it when he has had a few days, and has camped out and shaken a few times with the ague." I thought to myself, "You are mistaken, father, for I would rather die than be left behind."