Source: Lyman Omer Littlefield, Reminiscences of Latter-day Saints

Outside of her domestic joys the Church was next akin to her first care, and here she modestly endeavored to fill the consistent Christian woman's part devoutly.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.141

Her kindness of heart, conscientious convictions, honesty of purpose and charity for all, in happy union with her other and many Christian graces, makes her loss by death a calamity not only to those bound by the sacred ties of blood, but through every other channel her virtuous life deeds ramified.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.141 - p.142

She was a native of New York, married in St. Louis, and for nearly twenty-five years had been a resident of this city, respected, loved and cherished by all. She had only returned "home to die" from a visit to a sister in the country the day before her final summons came to fill another grave and make another home sad and gloomy by the departure of a loving wife, a devoted parent and cherished friend.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142

Sympathy turns with pitying eye, Mingling warm tears with those of sadness, While friendship calms the rising sigh And grieved hearts are filled with gladness By the thought of life in the orb supernal, In the rest to her through life eternal."

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142

--Sangamo Monitor, Springfield, Illinois, July 28, 1879.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142

By request, we here insert the following descriptive article from the pen of the author of this book, which appeared in the Nauvoo Times and Seasons, of November 15, 1841:

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142

Sights from the Long Tree

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142

'Twas morning--the sun rose under the brightest auspices, and the thin, vaporous clouds that flitted in the heavens, continued gradually to flee away before the gentle morning breeze, that seemed wont to greet their golden visages with the soft rustle of its dewy wings--until not a hand's breadth of them were seen remaining to mar the spotless beauty of the ethereal blue. Oh! how beautiful and sublimely grand--as I sat beneath the Lone Tree, on this delightful morning--did the scenery of nature, which was there spread around me, clad in the luxuriant robes of summer's brightest green, appear to my enamored vision! Sweet, too, as the mellow cadence of the AEolian harp, when its chords are swept by the artful fingers of a maiden's tiny hand, was the distant music of birds offering up their morning orisons to the Author of their joy, as they twittered from spray to spray among the green foliage of a neighboring grove.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.142 - p.143

I was bounded by a vast and fertile prairie on the west, who superabundance of wild but beautiful flowers waved their proud heads in the passing breeze, as if rejoicing at the sublime appearance of the "King of Day," on the east by a wide-spread valley that intervened between me and the great "Father of Waters," whose disporting wavelets wore the gay smile of the rising sun as they rode gently on towards the mighty ocean, and on the north and south by seemingly interminable woods, whose foliage danced gracefully in the morning light, and sent its peaceful and unwritten whisperings away upon the balmy wings of the passing zephyrs. Upon this valley were seen numerous herds of cattle eagerly feeding upon the green, unbroken surface, while the melody of their tinkling bells stole upon my ear, and made me for once, envy the cheerful shepherd his humble lot, which calls him from the monotony of village traffic to muse, undisturbed by any of the litigated topics which always agitate the mind in the busy walks of life, amid scenes so romantic and delightful as those with which I was surrounded.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.143 - p.144

On the opposite side of the Mississippi, lay a broad and beautiful plain, which stretched up and down its waters as far as my sight could extend, and was thickly covered with dwellings, which for their simple neatness and rural beauty, were to me far preferable to those gaudy palaces where aristocracy sits gorged in the lap of affluence and surrounded by all the paraphernalia of inexhaustible wealth. Yes, for that spot, so truly picturesque in its scenery, and where but a few years ago, nought was seen save the curling smoke from the Indian wigwam, or heard but the fearful twang of the savage bow-string and thrilling yell of the fearless war whoop, my soul felt an attachment which all the alluring pageantry of an opulent world would fail to inspire. Oh! what clam and unbroken serenity dwelt in my bosom as I contemplated its matchless beauty of landscape and thought of the many endearing ties that bound me to its inhabitants, which now numbered near eight thousand souls. That was the delightful city of Nauvoo--the home of her whose destiny was united to mine through the many conflicting changes of this transitory life; her, who with timorous heart and reciprocal affection, I had led to the sacred altar of Hymen, and whom I now delighted to call by the ever dear and consecrated name of wife!

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.144

There too, dwelt my brethren, who after being driven from their peaceful homes in the west by the barbarous hand of religious persecution, had made it their place of refuge, and from an uninhabited waste, converted it into a flourishing and populous city. They had been delivered from their enemies and they dwelt in peace. The effulgent morn of prosperity beamed bright upon their hopes, happiness smiled in every countenance, and friendship, pure and unalloyed, reigned supremely in every bosom. But the sight of the beautifully sloping hill--situated near half a mile from the Mississippi--on whose delightful summit the temple of God was being erected, filled my mind with emotions still more pleasing and delightfully intense, emotions to which the corrupt and profane world is a stranger, and which the acknowledged pen of sublimest eloquence and profound erudition, would prove infinitely inadequate to describe. That temple was fast approaching a state of completion, and in the eagerness of my soul, I said: the day is not far distant when its magnificent walls of grandest architecture and most skillful masonry, will post their ponderous and polished fronts upon that beautiful eminence, and become the beauty of Zion to sentinel the sacred land.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.144 - p.145

My attention was now attracted by a congregation of people who were assembled in a beautiful grove near the summit of the hill and seated in the unbroken redundance of its shade. It was Sunday and they had met to worship Him who is the divine author of their holy religion. Now me thought I could hear the heavenly chant of their song of worship send its mellow notes, rendered more soft and harmonious by distance, through the ambient air and, being inspired with love for its sweetness, I hastened from the place where my bosom had been so emulated with feelings of transport, to join my brethren in worship near the temple of God.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.145

Chapter X

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.145

In the spring of 1843, I was sent on a mission to the southern portion of Illinois. Taking a steamer at Nauvoo at what was generally called the upper stone house landing, we wended our way down the broad majestic stream which ran rapidly from the place of embarkation for a distance of twelve miles, the facilitated current being caused by the water flowing down a gentle declivity which gave to the river at that point the title of The Rapids--at the foot of which on the Iowa shore, was the flourishing business place widely known as Keokuk.

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I had taken passage for St. Louis, Missouri, intending at that place to cross the river east and travel out into Madison County and commence my missionary labors. This was my first mission from home with the sacred object in view of trying to disseminate the truths of the gospel, as a missionary, by lifting up my voice to the people and giving my reasons for the hope that had been inspired within me. Hence the undertaking was a most important one to me, considering my youth and inexperience. But at the start I committed myself to the keeping of my Heavenly Father and asked Him not only to aid me by His Spirit in enunciating the saving truths of the gospel, but also to overrule for my personal safety that I might, in due time, return to my family and friends.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.146

While traveling down the Mississippi, a certain legal gentleman whose name I here omit and who had been identified in some of the later lawsuits that had been vexatiously brought against the Prophet Joseph, obtruded his acquaintance upon me. He asked some inquisitive questions and I discovered he was not pleased with some of my answers. Finally, he sullenly withdrew from my company, after expressing some interest in my welfare. The last item that he took special pains to elicit from me was that I was to leave the steamer at St. Louis. I notice in him a gratified expression upon gaining this intelligence.

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The city of Alton, on the Illinois side of the river, is distant above St. Louis about thirty miles. In the latter part of the night I was awoke in the midst of a frightful dream and springing from my berth, put on my clothing as quickly as possible. Then, taking my carpet sack, I hastened from my stateroom and down the flight of stairs, when, stepping quickly along the plank that ran out upon the shore, found myself in a place strange to me. One of the men standing there informed me we were in Alton. My reasoning faculties came quickly to my aid and a feeling was inspired within me, as quick as thought, not to be uneasy for all was right and intended for my preservation. I acknowledged the hand of the Lord in the circumstance. The steamer immediately withdrew and soon the heavy and lonesome sound of the escaping steam was heard far downstream to echo along the sable shores.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.147

I could not account fully for the strange incident that had just occurred. I had escaped no visible danger and had I reasoned entirely as an uninspired and doubting naturalist often does, I might have felt like finding fault with the Providence that had disturbed my sleep with unpleasant dreams and propelled my powers of locomotion to that then lonely shore. Thus it is with man oftentimes. Because they had not seen with the natural eye some danger they have escaped and their quick perceptive powers of sight did not detect the adder that was coiled in the path, or because the sleeping reptile failed to rattle a signal for the deadly spring--they fail to acknowledge the hand of God in their deliverance from harm and attribute their preservation to their own sagacity and precaution.

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After spending about one hour in solitude the first gleams of approaching light shot upward along the eastern horizon. Welcome tokens! Glad presage of approaching day, when the shadows would be scattered by the king of light while mounting to the zenith of his diurnal circuit. Never did a morning's dawn bring to me more exultant joy. Never did the human heart overflow with fuller transports of thankfulness to the Divine Creator, who--as in the beginning--caused light to spring forth and scatter the darkness that enveloped the earth. It gradually revealed to me the buildings and signs of civilization and domestic care before the drowsy denizens ventured forth into the streets or filled the marts of trade. That light ever drives away the general distrust occasioned from a knowledge of the crimes sheltered from sight beneath the curtains of night, and renews confidence in the Great Supreme which gives distinctness to the matchless splendor of His works. Never has day dawned upon me when my whole being was more completely filled with emotions of thankfulness. Mysteriously ejected from the steamboat and left in an unknown city enveloped in darkness, the reaction from despondence by the transporting light was rendered gratifying beyond all power of description.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.148 - p.149

Morning is ever a welcome period. Its influences are hailed by all as the night's repose is ended and the slumberer--refreshed in the oblivious hours--first opens the organs of vision upon the green earth made radiant in the early beams of light. The dews of night hand pendent from the lilies and refresh the green grass, but the resplendence of such gems has but a brief existence. Like the most innocent and lovely of mortality that expire in the hours of their brief existence, such sparkling brilliants do not always last to bless and give during charms to the sanctified circles of connubial life. The voluptuousness of that hour glitters through the forests and the silent dells, upon the foliage of the trees that sway in the winds over our heads and on the mountain brow where the untamed roe tosses his broad antlers upward into the brightness of a newborn day, sniffs the freshened breeze, and shakes the tears of night from his shaggy neck. As the sorrowing heart--when a ray of hope steals kindly through the soul and lifts the despairing spirit up to catch the phantoms of some filial joy--so do the world's denizens bask in the exultant ecstacies of the early dawn, before the mounting sun melts into vapor the dazzling dews of beauty and float away into denser and sullen clouds to be shaken by pealing thunder the enveloped in the lightning which sends down its fiery bolts and claims mankind and his accumulated comforts for its victims.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.149

Because the hour is brief and beautiful we love it. The blessed moments of life which cannot last--we quaff their glories with a zest all the more exquisite because they are transitory. But though the soaring sun drinks up the fragile freshness from the trembling foliage, its warm rays quicken the earth with reproductive powers and the roots of the forest oak, with the fragile stems of flowers, send upward the spirit of life to clothe the tops with leaflets and blooming petals that survive the summer solstice until December's blasts hurl them withered from their stems. This tells us that there are departments in the domains of nature where existence is not so transitory and where happiness and beauty can endure until ripened for the change which preludes the resuscitation of another life that will not be shaken by the blasts of death. The statistics of mortal life declare that the natural man may endure to "three score and ten," but the inspirations of a higher divinity begets faith and knowledge in an existence that is immortal where joys are more than momentary and where the beauties of the paradisaic fields will never fade, where the flowers bloom perennially and the forms created in the image of the Eternal Father will not be cut down, but forever endure in the fullness and vigor of perpetual prime.

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Yes, the dawn of morning--as the beginning of life--is full of promise. The bow of hope spans the horizon as the precursor of promised joys. All creation is decked in the habiliments of gorgeous attire--as the blushing bride is led to the hymeneal altar by smiling maidens to meet the greetings of her chosen lord. The rays of rising glory light the beacon torches upon the towering mountains and chase the shadows from the lowland vales. The feathered songsters awake from drowsiness and silence to hail the welcome light and chant their welcome notes, and the bee hums its tiny tunes as it sips honey from the rich petals of the rose. The nimble kine skips upon the hills and through the meadows in glad revelry of the effulgent fragrance, while old and young, of the human race, bathe the smiling cheek in the playful dalliance of the radiant darts that chase away the shades of gloom and make all bright and glowing in that perpetual flood of light that has blessed the revolving ages with seed time and harvest. Buy alas! much of that gush of delight is obscured in the glooms of care and toil, for man is doomed to eat his bread by the sweat of the brow. The bright day lives but through a few brief hours. The glorious sun slowly but surely descends from the exalted point of meridian splendor and sinks to rest behind the western verge where the emblems of its departed glory is refracted upon the gorgeous sky, itself soon to become oblivious in the broad curtains of the gloomy night.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.150 - p.151

Such are the days and nights allotted to mortals whose abode is upon this fallen earth. The light of day gives place alternately to the shades of night, and the mortal spark of life is as surely extinguished in the solemn hush that darkens the passage to the tomb. That which is earthly in the tenements of the human race must slumber through the night of death, but the intelligent portion--the living soul--will be awakened in a morning that will eclipse the early splendor of the diurnal day, for that will be the full fruition of the matchless splendor of the Eternal King of Glory. Then mankind will be fully redeemed, the earth exalted to its destined orbit, and all will be merged in the boundless region of unfading light that illuminates the celestial cities where the thrones of the Gods are eternal and the brightness of His glory will bless the beautified worlds with perpetual day.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.151

A stranger, I wandered through the streets of the city, wondering how to proceed and contemplating upon the singular manner by which I was made a wanderer there. As soon as the people began to walk abroad, I commenced making inquiries and by the usual breakfast time I found the abode of a Latter-day Saint by the name of Brown and was seated at his table partaking of the morning's meal with himself and wife. This is the same Brother Brown who was murdered some twenty or twenty-five years ago in Salt Lake City over a trouble concerning the water with which his lot was being irrigated. The man who committed the unjustifiable deed went by the name of Cockroft. He received the sentence of the law and was shot for his crime.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.151 - p.152

I found in Alton several families of the Saints and held a few meetings in that place. I did what good I could in that vicinity and then traveled out into the interior, conversing with the people as opportunity presented upon the principles of the gospel, and at the same time trying to disabuse their minds concerning the false rumors that had been put in circulation regarding Joseph Smith the Prophet and the people of Nauvoo generally. To converse with the people by the wayside and in their dwellings was about all the opportunities presenting for me to promulgate the doctrines of the gospel. After a few days travel in this way, I came across a few families of Saints by whom I was kindly entertained as often as I desired to be a participant of their hospitality. Brothers Joel Ricks, now a resident of Logan City, William Steele of the Smithfield Ward, and Levi Stewart, now residing in the southern portion of Utah, are the only names I can now remember who with their families resided there. I held some meetings in their houses. They manifested much faith and interest in the progress of the latter-day work. But aside from the Saints not much spirit of inquiry could be awakened in that section of the country.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.152

Much faithful preaching had been done there by the elders, and all that were honest hearted enough to obey the sacred truths had already done so and a considerable number of such had removed to Nauvoo. But while there, in my wanderings, circumstances in which I was occasionally placed cause me to reflect upon the journeyings and missions performed by Christ and His Apostles, who went forth without purse or scrip, and these memorable words were frequently brought to mind: "Foxes have holes and the fowls of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head."

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.152

Elders James Butler and Thomas Edwards had done a good work through that country and I was much pleased to meet with them while there.

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In process of time, Brothers Joel Ricks, William Steele, and James Olive were going on a visit to Nauvoo and by their kind permission, I returned with them. We arrived in the town of Ramus, Hancock County, about the 25th of August, where I joined my wife whom I had left there, at the residence of her uncle, Benjamin Andrews, to remain during my absence.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.153

I was there presented with my little daughter who had been born on the 19th of that month. My family and friends were pleased at my arrival at such an interesting juncture and I partook freely of the prevalent feeling of gratification. We named our little daughter Donna Isora, a name gleaned from a Spanish romance during the few days leisurely passed by me and which I read for the amusement of Mrs. Littlefield while she was approaching to convalescence.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.153

As soon as circumstances permitted we returned to our home in Nauvoo. Our little daughter grew finely and became the pride and pet of the family circle.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.153

It will be well to state here that this was the third child that had been born to us during our residence in Nauvoo. The first born was a daughter whom we named Mariah. The second was a son and we named him Edward Lytton, out of respect to Edward Lytton Bulwer who in recent years has been familiarly known as Lord Lytton, and who in the early years of my life, ranked in my estimation, among the most chaste and beautiful writers in fictitious literature.

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Those two first born little treasures were laid in their early death depositories where their ashes will rest until awakened by the resuscitating power of Omnipotence which is to call forth the inanimate forms of the dead, and reconstruct them suitably for the abodes of the spirits which are eternal and consequently require habitations to dwell in which are rendered secure from any future periods of decay. Their stay was brief in our domestic circle, but those few hours were enough to fix their family identity, receive names by which they are to be distinguished from others in the family group which is to have an existence and an organization beyond the grave, when the work of the resurrection shall have "raised to newness of life" those who are heirs to the felicities which are to bud and blossom forever upon the fair fields of those celestial landscapes that have been preserved, or redeemed, from every curse and made radiant in that matchless brightness and purity that reflect the true imagery of the deific forms of the Father and the Son.

Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.154

The loss of those two babes made our watchcare over our little Donna Isora all the more vigilant lest some accident should befall her or some contagious disease lay hold of her system, by which she should be snatched away from us. And this created within the bosom of my wife an early anxiety, for soon after the birth of the child and before my arrival home, she knew by the movements of the attendants in the room that they were trying to conceal from her the fact that spasms were threatening a fatal result. She summoned her strength, and turning her face to the wall at the back side of the bed, she engaged in mental prayer to her Heavenly Father to spare the child's life, and she there, at such a time, made a covenant that if the Lord would spare her child, she would in all things yield submissively to His will and try to keep His law the remainder of her days. Her prayer was answered and that then tiny form has since expanded into womanhood and beautiful children have been the fruits of her marriage with an honorable man. How well the mother kept her covenant belongs to the final judge of us all to declare.