Fire of the Covenant Page 10

  How long Jens stayed in Laaland is uncertain, but at sometime he made his way to Aarhus, a coast city on the mainland a hundred miles to the northwest. He belonged to the better middle class. He was thrifty and industrious and fairly successful, and he had many friends, many of them people of some importance. Being a natural farmer, he liked to possess land and livestock.

  In this letter, he goes on to say, “I was married to Elsie Rasmussen when I was thirty years old. [Elsie was only twenty at the time, so there was a ten-year difference in their ages.] Soon after that I bought five acres of land that cost six hundred dollars, and I built a house that cost about four hundred dollars. I had very little money to start with, but the Lord blessed me on my right hand and on my left and I was very successful and prospects in temporal concerns were very bright. I was looked upon as a respectable neighbor and many times invited to the higher class of society.

  “In the fall of 1852, two Mormon elders came to our neighborhood. I knew nothing of the Mormons except very bad reports. They had the privilege of holding a meeting close to my home. I thought I would go there for curiosity sake. As soon as I saw those men’s faces, I knew they were not the men as represented to be, and I told my friends so before I heard them speak. Before the meeting was out, I knew the testimony they bore was of God. We bought some few of their tracts and studied them for a few weeks and were perfectly satisfied the work was of God.

  “On the 29th of March, 1854, I and my wife went into the waters of baptism. From that time on all my former friends turned against me and spoke all kinds of evil against me, and that falsely. All my possessions had no power over me then, my only desire was to sell out and come to Zion. That same year I partly made a bargain with a man for my home but before the bargain was closed, the president of the conference [the equivalent of a priesthood district today] paid me a visit and told me I had not done my duty. He told me I had been warned and it was my duty to warn others.

  “That counsel came right in contact with my natural feelings, but the Spirit whispered me I must obey, for ‘obedience is better than sacrifice.’ Then I was ordained a priest and sent out to preach with another young man holding the same priesthood. We baptized some twelve or fifteen persons but we did not have the power to confer the Holy Ghost. Soon after that I was ordained an Elder and called to preside over the branch where I lived. I was very successful in my mission, after which I received an honorable release to go to Zion. I sold my place, got my money, and paid all my obligations.”

  As stated in his account, he made positive preparation to come to Utah soon after being baptized, but he accepted the advice to stay and for a year and a half, or more, he was an active missionary to his native land. A full account of this eventful time would be a wonderful story, inspiring us with faith and impelling us to appreciate him even more than we do now.

  He referred to some of the impressive events of that time, but so far as we know, he never undertook to write anything like an account. We would like to know whether his missionary work took him back to Laaland and to Copenhagen, the capital, or whether he preached only in the neighborhood of Aarhus. . . .

  He did relate in a testimony meeting in Bluff [in southeastern Utah, where the Nielsons later lived], that after he joined the church, he was attacked by an angry mob of his countrymen, that they tore his clothes to rags and left him injured and outraged. When he appealed to the magistrate of the law, presenting his clothes as evidence of what he had suffered, he was told there was “no law in Denmark to protect the Mormons.”

  At another time during his eventful mission in his home country, a mob threw two of the elders into a pond of filthy water declaring they would baptize them. Whenever the elders struggled to the bank and tried to get out, they were struck by some of the jeering crowd on the bank and pushed rudely back into the water. This torment continued till the elders were almost worn out with chill and exhaustion.

  In the spring of 1856, he was given honorable release from his call to preach in Denmark. He sold his property at once and went to the mission headquarters at Copenhagen preparatory to starting for Utah. Of this time he says: “When I came to Copenhagen, I paid my first tithing, and I hold the receipt for the sixty dollars to this day.” His family at that time consisted of himself and wife, and a little boy, Jens Junior, about six years old. But he was bringing with him a little girl whose father, Lars Mortensen [some sources say that it was a sister], had already come to Utah. (Lyman, “Bishop Jens Nielson,” pp. 1–2)

  Incidentally, it is difficult to tell how widely the metric system was in use in specific countries in 1856. Though developed in France in the late 1700s, even there it did not become the official sole means of measurement until 1840. Then gradually it came into widespread use throughout Europe, except in Great Britain, where it did not become widely used until the twentieth century. Thus, throughout the novel when the European emigrants refer to any measure of distance or volume, they use standard measurement terms and not the metric system.

  Book 2

  The Gathering

  May – July 1856

  [The] subject of the gathering . . . is a principle I esteem to be of the greatest importance to those who are looking for salvation in this generation, or in these, that may be called, “the latter times.” All that the prophets . . . have written . . . in speaking of the salvation of Israel in the last days, goes directly to show that it consists in the work of the gathering.

  Joseph Smith, letter to the elders of the Church, September 1835

  Chapter 4

  Liverpool, England

  I

  Thursday, 1 May 1856

  As a young girl, Margaret McKensie had decided that Edinburgh, Scotland, must surely be the largest city in the entire world. When her father took her and Hannah for long walks, it had astonished her to learn that the city continued on for blocks and blocks just as it was around their own street. As she got into her teen years, she learned that there were cities, such as London, which were much larger. But she had always had a hard time conceiving how a city could spread out much larger than her Edinburgh.

  The memory of those feelings came flooding back into Maggie’s mind as she walked slowly along the docks that lined the Mersey River. Liverpool was said to have almost two hundred thousand people in the city alone, and half that many again in the surrounding towns. It was a huge, often squalid, and always smoky city along the River Mersey. The railway station was more than a mile from the docks, and as the McKensies had walked that distance together, Maggie was amazed to see street after street leading off as far as she could see with huge apartment buildings or long, dark factories with tall chimneys. Since reaching the river, they had come another half a mile, and there had been no break in the complex of docks, wharfs, piers, and warehouses. Half a mile and they still couldn’t see the end of it! Robbie had started to count the number of ships. When he reached a hundred, he finally tired and gave it up.

  “What is the name of the ship again?”

  Maggie slowed her step and turned to look back at her sister. Hannah’s earlier enthusiasm for this “grand adventure,” as she called it, had now been replaced by weariness. They had gone by stage as far as Glasgow the previous night, but had to stay over to catch the morning train to Liverpool. In Glasgow the missionaries had arranged for a dingy dormitory-style boardinghouse. Brother Cunningham, one of the members of their branch, snored so loudly that half the group had lain awake most of the night with their hands over their ears. Maggie and her mother had been able to sleep some on the train down, but Hannah and Robbie had not. For Robbie, young and bursting with enthusiasm, it was not a problem. But Hannah was exhausted.

  They were moving slowly up the road, carrying their personal belongings. A lorry had been hired at the railway station to bring their heavier things, and now Maggie wished they had left it all with the driver. It was a warm, muggy day and they were all perspiring heavily now.

  “Look,” Mary McKensie said suddenly, pointing ahead.
Maggie turned her head, then went up on the balls of her feet so she could see better. About fifty paces ahead of them a crowd was gathered, filling most of the dock area. They weren’t just milling about, however. They seemed to be in some sort of lines or queues. Just behind them, tied at the dock, was a large ship with three great masts on which the sails were furled. As they looked more closely, they could see people walking up the gangplank and others lining the rails.

  “Do you think that is it?” Maggie’s mother asked, moving out ahead a few steps to see better.

  “I’ll go see,” Robbie said, lifting his bag and darting away.

  Hannah groaned. “How can he do that? I just want to lie down and never move again.”

  “It’s called youth,” her mother answered. She reached out and took Hannah’s suitcase from her. Hannah started to protest, but her mother hurried on.

  Before they had gone another ten steps, Robbie came racing back. “This is it, Mama. It’s the Thornton. I can see the name on the ship.”

  “Wonderful,” Mary exclaimed. She turned and looked back at Maggie and Hannah. “Come on, girls, we’re almost there.”

  As they approached the crowd, they saw that the people were organized into three rough lines. Each line snaked back from a table where men in suits were seated. The men had sheaves of paper in front of them and seemed to be checking off names. Behind the tables, at the base of the gangplank, there were four other men directing those who finished at the tables. Maggie let her eyes lift to the prow of the massive sailing vessel. She hadn’t doubted Robbie, but it did give her great relief to see the name Thornton painted there. Behind them, she could hear others in their party calling out in relief and excitement as well.

  As the Scottish group began to arrive, the people in the lines turned to look at them and smiled in greeting. Mary, with Robbie at her side now, went directly to the nearest couple. “Excuse me,” she said. “Are you Latter-day Saints?”

  “Yes.” It came out with warm enthusiasm. “And you?”

  “Yes. We have come from Scotland.”

  The man stuck out his hand. “Welcome to Liverpool. We are the Empeys, from Bedford.”

  Mary set down her case and took his hand. Maggie and Hannah came up and dropped their luggage gratefully to the ground. “We are the McKensies, from Edinburgh.”

  “Ah,” said the man. “Then you’ll be wanting to get into the next line.” He pointed. “They’re checking us in alphabetically. This line is for those with surnames which start with A to F.”

  Maggie looked where he was indicating and now saw that there were signs over each table. The second line was for G through M, the third for N through Z. Another couple in the adjacent line was watching and listening. “Did you say McKensie?” the woman asked.

  “Yes,” said Maggie. “We are the McKensies.”

  Now the woman’s husband came forward, hand outstretched. He had a baby in his arms, a little girl. “Then you’ll be in our line. We are the James family. I am William James. This is my wife, Jane.”

  Maggie’s mother took his hand. “We are very pleased to meet you. I’m Mary McKensie.”

  There were several children nearby, and Maggie was surprised to see all of them turn and move closer to the couple as her mother went on. William James motioned them in. “These are our children.” He smiled at them. “We have eight.”

  Maggie was impressed and a little amazed as well. Families with eight children were not that common in the British Isles. It was not that parents didn’t give birth to that many, but it was rare for every child to survive. They were clearly not from a well-to-do home, but each child was neatly dressed and well scrubbed.

  Brother James was sizing up the McKensies. “I won’t introduce you to everyone just now, but I see you have three older children.”

  “Yes,” Mary said. “Let me introduce you. This is Robbie, he’s twelve. And this is Hannah, she is sixteen. And—”

  “Really?” Jane James broke in with a pleased smile. She motioned to a girl who looked very much like her mother, bringing her forward. “And this is our daughter Emma, who will be sixteen next month.”

  “Well,” Mary McKensie said, “how nice.” She turned. “And this is my oldest daughter, Margaret, or Maggie.”

  “And I would guess you are about eighteen or nineteen, Maggie,” Brother James said.

  “Nineteen,” she said.

  Husband and wife looked at each other, smiling. “How nice,” Jane said. Then she turned. Behind her a girl who looked to be about Maggie’s age was kneeling beside a young boy, speaking to him softly. Jane said to the girl, “Sarah, this is Maggie.”

  The girl stood and smiled.

  “Sarah will be nineteen in August,” Jane James said. “How wonderful. Emma and Sarah have wondered if there would be anyone their age.”

  “Hello, Maggie,” Sarah said pleasantly, reaching out to shake hands. Her grip was firm and assured. She was taller than Maggie and a very lovely young woman. She had long dark brown hair, surprisingly blue eyes, and almost perfect features. As she smiled, Maggie saw a touch of her father in her face.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Sarah,” Maggie replied, immediately liking what she saw.

  “And I you.”

  “I hope we can become good friends,” Maggie said, surprising herself even as she spoke, first because she had said it, second because she really meant it.

  “I am sure we shall,” Sarah responded.

  “And us too,” Hannah said to Emma. “I am sure we shall too.”

  “Well, well,” William James went on, “this is just grand.” He looked at Robbie. “And you’re twelve?”

  Robbie nodded.

  William stepped to the oldest boy. “This is Reuben. He’s thirteen. He also has a June birthday, when he’ll be fourteen, but I’m sure you can be friends as well.”

  “What a wonderful family,” Mary McKensie said warmly.

  “Well,” Jane James said, “we are very pleased to make your acquaintance. Come, get in line here with us. It shan’t be long. The lines are moving along quite nicely.”

  •••

  The two families visited comfortably as the line moved steadily closer to the tables. Emma and Hannah chatted happily away while Maggie and Sarah helped keep the three youngest James children occupied by playing finger games with them.

  Ten minutes later, as they approached the table, Maggie looked back. The line was longer now than when they had first arrived. She shook her head and spoke to Sarah. “Do you think there will be room enough on board ship for all of us?”

  Sarah shrugged, but her mother heard the question and turned. “Yes,” she said. “There is room for everyone, but there won’t be many empty places. I talked to President Richards earlier and he said nearly every berth has been filled.”

  Mary McKensie turned in surprise. “President Franklin D. Richards? Is he here?”

  Jane laughed. “Of course. Don’t you know him? That’s him at the bottom of the gangplank showing people where to go.”

  They all turned, Maggie as curious as her mother. The name of Elder Franklin D. Richards was well known to all the Saints in Europe. He was not only the president of the European Mission but also an Apostle, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. According to what the missionaries had told Maggie’s family, it was in large measure his organizational abilities that made all of this possible. He and his staff booked the ships, made the arrangements for train and ferry passage from a dozen different locations, and purchased the huge amounts of supplies required to see seven hundred people through a six- to eight-week voyage across the Atlantic.

  And there he was, in person. Maggie was surprised that he was shorter than she had expected. And younger. Then she remembered that someone had told her that he had been ordained an Apostle at age twenty-seven.

  “We’re the sixth shipload this season,” William James said. “Can you imagine how much work that has meant for Brother Richards and the other missionaries?”

&n
bsp; “Six?” Maggie exclaimed. She had known there were other emigrant ships, but six?

  “Yes,” Brother James answered. “And we’re not the last, according to Brother Richards. He said they’ve had so many people apply for passage since the announcement of the handcarts, they had to charter another ship. It will be leaving in two or three more weeks.”

  “Do you know any of the other brethren there?” Jane asked Maggie’s mother. When Mary shook her head Jane started pointing. “The man at President Richard’s left, in the long coat, is Elder James G. Willie. He’s been a missionary here for the last four years and is going home. He’ll be our leader on the voyage. The man at the top of the gangplank, showing people where to go, is Elder Edward Martin. He’s also been a missionary here. He’ll come with the next ship in about a fortnight.”

  “And you know Brother John Jaques, don’t you?” William asked.

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s him at our table, checking us in. You’ll get to meet him shortly.”

  Maggie studied the man at the table in front of them. They were just four or five people back now, and she had a good look at him. He was a handsome man with short hair and piercing dark eyes. He wore both a mustache and a Greek-style beard, though neither was very thick. His hands moved with quick, sure strokes, and he smiled frequently up at the people before him. She turned back to William James. “Is he one of the Church leaders here?”

  “In a way. He’s one of the editors at the Millennial Star.”

  Now Maggie’s mother snapped her fingers. “Of course,” she said. “John Jaques. He writes beautiful poetry.”

  “Yes, the very one.”

  “But I thought his name was pronounced ‘Jacks.’ ”

  Brother James shook his head. “It’s spelled J-A-Q-U-E-S, but he pronounces it ‘Jakes,’ not ‘Jacks.’ He’s also the one who wrote that letter to his father-in-law in America that was published in the latest issue of the Star. Did you perchance read that?”