Previously, I have
mentioned the story our mission president, Warren G. Tate, likes to tell about
Claudius V. Spencer, who left (reluctantly) on a mission to England in 1850. I
was able to secure a copy of part of his journal and some key excerpts are below:
MY EXPERIENCES IN ENGLAND
BY C. V. SPENCER
CHAPTER 1
CALLED ON A MISSION—START
FOR MY FIELD OF LABOR—DIFFICULTIES ON THE WAY—TRAVELING IN DEEP SNOW—REACH THE
PLATTE RIVER—PROCURE A NEW OUTFIT—EXPOSED TO CHOLERA—ATTACKED BY THE PLAGUE—MY
RECOVERY—ARRIVAL AT ALBANY, N.Y.—TAKE PASSAGE ON A STEAMER TO NEW YORK
CITY—INCIDENTS ON THE WAY.
At the April conference,
1850, I felt a presentiment that I might be called on a mission, and kept away
from conference until near the close of the last afternoon’s meeting, thinking
that if I were not seen, I should, perhaps, not be remembered, and then went to
the door, and standing on the outside pressed it open about two inches. Just as
I did this a man arose on the stand and said, “It is moved and seconded that
Claudius V. Spencer go on a mission to Europe.” I turned as though shot, walked
down Main Street saying to myself, “Can it be possible those men have any
inspiration to call such a stick for a missionary?” I think if my body and spirit had
then been weighed together, I should have pulled the beam at two thousand
pounds.
Previous to this time no
person had heard me pray or speak in any public meeting.
. . . The most of the
company left Salt Lake City on the 19th of April, and those who did
not go then overtook us the next morning. We carried the mail by express with
ox teams, and delivered it at Council Bluffs on the 4th of July
following.
At the time we were set
apart Brother Heber forbid us taking either money, watches, rings or chains of
gold or silver, but told us to go literally without purse or scrip. For the
benefit of the missionaries who now go by rail and frequently in first-class
style, I record that the first day out we reached Emigration Canyon, and that
night had a severe snow storm. The next morning our cattle were all lost. We
divided into parties to find them. The party with which I went trailed some of
the cattle towards the city. They wished me to go in, see the folks and help
get the cattle back. I said, “No, I will never enter Salt Lake again til I have
fulfilled my mission, unless I am carried in dead.”
[He recounts numerous difficulties and privations
along their arduous route east, as well as some blessings – including being able
to trade their horses, wagons and other gear for better ones to complete the
journey. They passed some men traveling west who had been exposed to chlora, and
spoke of having to leave the road sometimes to avoid the bodies. He also
mentioned how the way they lived and traveled had worn his clothing so
that it was in pretty bad condition. Once he got to Albany, NY, he planned to
sail down the Hudson to NYC.]
I went aboard a New York
steamer and applied for a ticket for passage and state room to that city. The
agent looked at me from head to foot and then said that I could not have one,
as the boat was chartered by the State, county and city authorities for a
pleasure trip. On looking round I saw “U.S. Mail” as a sign on the boat; I laid
down the money before the ticket seller and demanded my ticket. After some
squirming on his part I got it. On this same day I had the “blues” as I hope
never to have them again. I had nearly concluded that there could not be either
sense or inspiration in the authorities of the Church sending me to England on
a mission, and that when I got to New York City I would go over to my native town
where I had some property and quietly settle among my old friends and
relatives. So great was the power that the devil had over me that when I first
stepped on the boat I drew a chair into the niche by the “figure head” to avoid
having conversation with anyone. I had sat there but a few moments when a
person came up behind me and remarked that it was a pleasant evening. I made no
reply.
“Boat making fine time,”
said he.
Still I did not answer. Soon
he spoke again, “Are you traveling far, young man?”
I jerked my chair around and
answered very spitefully, “I have come
a long way and I am going a long way;
all the way from Salt Lake to England. Is there anything else you want?” My
abruptness had sent him back several feet, and he was looking at me with about
as much curiosity as if he were viewing a wild animal.
Very soon he smiled and
said, “Yes if you come from Salt Lake there is a good deal more I want.”
He commenced asking
questions and soon several more persons gathered around; but just then the
dinner bell rang, and they invited me to go to dine, which I did not do, as it
seemed to me that I could not have eaten at that time even if it were to save
my life. After finishing their repast I was waited upon by three gentlemen, who
stated they had engaged the cabin from the captain and wished me to preach. I
told them I had never preached in my life. They wanted to know for what I was
going to England. I told them to preach. They then wanted to know why I would
not preach, in the cabin, my answer being that it was because I was not sent
here to preach. We finally compromised the matter by my consenting to go to the
cabin and answer questions. The room was so crowded that they could not sit
down, but stood around in circles, and took turns asking me questions.
. . . I answered questions
until about eleven o’clock at night, when I sprang from my chair and said, “Gentlemen,
you have had ‘Mormonism’ enough for one night,” and I started for my room. I
was stopped and led back to my chair, when I received a unanimous vote of
thanks and the proffer to raise me three hundred dollars if I would accept the
amount. I told the gentlemen that we preached the gospel without purse or
scrip, and that I had already received enough to take me to England. I selected,
however, three reliable men, who promised me to see that the three hundred
dollars were given to the poor in their neighborhoods during the next Winter.
I went into my room and
prostrated myself with my face on the floor, and thanked God for the gift of
the Holy Ghost, for I had most surely talked by inspiration. I asked
forgiveness for my unbelief, and from that time I was wholly contented to go to
England.
(Labors in the Vineyard: Faith-Promoting Series, no. 12 [Salt Lake
City: Juvenile Instructor Office, 1884], 14.)
1 comment:
Wow! What a wonderful account!
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