My father moved to one of the northern counties. I stopped in Quincy, and, while there, wrote for the press, "An Appeal to the Citizens of the United States," "An Address to the Citizens of Quincy," and several other articles, for which I received some very flattering encomiums, with solicitations for effusions, which, probably, were elicited by the fact that they were from the pen of a "Mormon girl."
From Quincy, my sister, her two daughters and I, went to Lima, Hancock county, where we found a temporary home under the roof of an old veteran of the Revolution, who, with his family, treated us with much kindness, although, through ignorance of the character of the saints, their feelings were like gall towards them as a people, which we knew to be the result of misrepresentation. It was very annoying to our feelings to hear bitter aspersions against those whom we knew to be the best people on earth; but, occupying, as we did, an upper room with a slight flooring between us and those below, we were obliged to hear. Frequently, after our host had traduced our people, of whom he knew nothing, he would suddenly change his tone and boast of the "noble women" he had in his house; "no better women ever lived," etc., which he would have said of the Mormon people generally, had he known them as well. We were pilgrims, and for the time being had to submit to circumstances. Almost anything is preferable to dependence—with these people we would earn our support at the tailoring business, thanks to my mother's industrial training, for which I even now bless her dear memory.
In May the saints commenced gathering in Commerce (afterwards Nauvoo), and on the 16th of July I left our kind host and hostess, much to their regret, Elder Rigdon having sent for me to teach his family school in Commerce, and, although I regretted to part with my sister, I was truly thankful to be again associated with the body of the church, with those whose minds, freed from the fetters of sectarian creeds, and man-made theology, launch forth in the divine path of investigation into the glorious fields of celestial knowledge and intelligence.
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Concerning these times, Sister Bathsheba W. Smith says: "When I was in my sixteenth year, some Latter-day Saint elders visited our neighborhood. I heard them preach and believed what they taught; I believed the Book of Mormon to be a divine record, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. I knew by the spirit of the Lord, which I received in answer to prayer, that these things were true. On the 21st of August, 1837, I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, by Elder Samuel James, in Jones' Run, on the farm and near the residence of Augustus Burgess, and was confirmed by Elder Francis G. Bishop. The spirit of the Lord rested upon me, and I knew that he accepted of me as a member in his kingdom. My mother was baptized this same day. My sister Sarah, next older than me, was baptized three days previously. My father, and my two oldest sisters, Matilda and Nancy, together with their husbands, Col. John S. Martin and Josiah W. Fleming, were baptized into the same church soon afterwards. My uncle, Jacob Bigler, and his family had been baptized a few weeks before. A part of my first experience as a member of the church was, that most of my young acquaintances and companions began to ridicule us. The spirit of gathering with the saints in Missouri came upon me, and I became very anxious indeed to go there that fall with my sister Nancy and family, as they had sold out and were getting ready to go. I was told I could not go. This caused me to retire to bed one night feeling very sorrowful. While pondering upon what had been said to me about not going, a voice said to me,'Weep not, you will go this fall' I was satisfied and comforted. The next morning I felt contented and happy, on observing which my sister Sarah said, 'You have got over feeling badly about not going to Zion this fall, have you?' I quietly, but firmly, replied, 'I am going—you will see.'
"My brother, Jacob G. Bigler, having gone to Far West, Mo., joined the church there and bought a farm for my father, and then returned. About this time my father sold his farm in West Virginia, and fitted out my mother, my brother, and my sister Sarah, Melissa and myself, and we started for Far West, in company with my two brothers-in-law and my uncle and their families. Father stayed to settle up his business, intending to join us at Far West in the spring, bringing with him, by water, farming implements, house furniture, etc. On our journey the young folks of our party had much enjoyment; it seemed so novel and romantic to travel in wagons over hill and dale, through dense forests and over extensive prairies, and occasionally passing through towns and cities, and camping in tents at night. On arriving in Missouri we found the State preparing to wage war against the Latter-day Saints. The nearer we got to our destination, the more hostile the people were. As we were traveling along, numbers of men would sometimes gather around our wagons and stop us. They would inquire who we were, where we were from, and where we were going to. On receiving answers to their questions, they would debate among themselves whether to let us go or not; their debate would result generally in a statement to the effect of, 'As you are Virginians, we will let you go on, but we believe you will soon return, for you will quickly become convinced of your folly.' Just before we crossed Grand River, we camped over night with a company of Eastern saints. We had a meeting, and rejoiced together. In the morning it was thought best for the companies to separate and cross the river by two different ferries, as this arrangement would enable all to cross in less time. Our company arrived at Far West in safety. But not so with the other company; they were overtaken at Haun's Mill by an armed mob—nineteen were killed, many others were wounded, and some of them maimed for life.
"Three nights after we had arrived at the farm which my brother had bought, and which was four miles south of the city of Far West, word came that a mob was gathering on Crooked River, and a call was made for men to go out in command of Captain David W. Patten, for the purpose of trying to stop the depredations of the men, who were whipping and otherwise maltreating our brethren, and who were destroying and burning property. Captain Patten's company went, and a battle ensued. Some of the Latter-day Saints were killed, and several were wounded. I saw Brother James Hendrix, one of the wounded, as he was being carried home; he was entirely helpless and nearly speechless. Soon afterwards Captain David W. Patten, who was one of the twelve apostles, was brought wounded into the house where we were. I heard him bear testimony to the truth of Mormonism. He exhorted his wife and all present to abide in the faith. His wife asked him if he had anything against any one. He answered, 'No.' Elder Heber C. Kimball asked him if he would remember him when he got home. He said he would. Soon after this he died, without a struggle.
"In this State I saw thousands of mobbers arrayed against the saints, and I heard their shouts and savage yells when our prophet Joseph and his brethren were taken into their camp. I saw much, very much, of the sufferings that were brought upon our people by those lawless men. The saints were forced to sign away their property, and to agree to leave the State before it was time to put in spring crops. In these distressing times, the spirit of the Lord was with us to comfort and sustain us, and we had a sure testimony that we were being persecuted for the gospel's sake, and that the Lord was angry with none save those who acknowledged not his hand in all things.
"My father had to lose what he had paid on his farm; and in February, 1839, in the depth of winter, our family, and thousands of the saints, were on the way to the State of Illinois. On this journey I walked many a mile, to let some poor sick or weary soul ride. At night we would meet around the camp-fire and take pleasure in singing the songs of Zion, trusting in the Lord that all would yet be well, and that Zion would eventually be redeemed.
"In the spring, father joined us at Quincy, Ill. We also had the joy of having our prophet, Joseph Smith, and his brethren, restored to us from their imprisonment in Missouri. Many, however, had died from want and exposure during our journey. I was sick for a long time with ague and fever, during which time my father was taken severely sick, and died after suffering seven weeks. It was the first sickness that either of us ever had.