Lydia Knight's History / The First Book of the Noble Women's Lives

A little girl with light-blue eyes and fair hair sat under the shade of the forest trees pulling a sheep-skin. One by one her brothers and sisters, older and younger than she, had grown weary of the work and wandered off to play.

"Oh, Lydia, how can you sit there over that tiresome work. Look at the shadows under the trees, and the squirrels calling to us to come and chase them from limb to limb. Let's have a play," said the last little boy as his patience at length had ebbed away.

"No," replied the fair-haired maiden, and the firm little mouth took another line of determination as she spoke, "I shall not leave the sheepskin till the last lock is pulled."

A "clearing" in the forest of the western part of New York State, a large comfortable cabin on a rise of ground near the center of the space, with wide-open doors and floors of gleaming white, waving grain on one side of the house and a large vegetable garden on the other side constituted the scene of a home in the forest wilds, which was a common one in those days-the years between 1810 and 1820. The circle of high waving trees gave a grandeur and beauty to the view that nothing else could possibly do.

The little girl who sat so steadily at work had been brought by her parents two years previously to this wild western home.

She was born in 1812, in Sutton, Worcester Co., Mass., and eight happy years had been spent in her earliest home.

Shall I tell you about her father, whose name was Jesse Goldthwait? He was a medium-sized, well-built New Englander, prudent, industrious and the possessor of a firm will. Her mother was a quiet-spoken woman, but she bad an ardent temperament and a great deal of natural refinement. She had had some scholastic advantages and was exceedingly ambitious for her children. Five sisters and six brothers had Lydia, and a very happy and peaceful family they were.

Don't you know what "wool-pulling" is? Well, while my little girl is finishing her work I will tell you:

When the sheep was killed for family use, the skin was rolled up by the thrifty farmers in ashes or lime and laid away for some time. Then the wool could easily be separated from the hide. This last piece of labor generally fell to the children. And in Jesse Goldthwait's family none of the children would keep to the work but Lydia. So that it soon passed into a proverb, when Lydia exhibited that determination in anything which was so striking a point in her character, they would say to each other:

"It's no use trying to make her give up her design. You know Lydia never leaves till the last lock is pulled."

The years passed on and Lydia grew apace. But as she attained to early womanhood, she did not lose the slender form, the quiet voice she had inherited from her mother, or the firm will her father had bequeathed to her. She was brought up to habits of work and she had also received religious training from her parents.

When the girl was about fifteen years old, a council was held concerning her by her father and mother:

"Let us send the girl to school, father: you are comfortable for means, and Lydia is a good, obedient girl."

"That she is," replied the father, "and studiously inclined. I will think it over, mother."

After some deliberation, a boarding-school was chosen, and the girl placed under proper care.

Who cannot fancy the life of a school-girl of fifteen? Happy, careless as to the future, mindful of the husking-bees and quiltings, and with bright, shy glances for the youths who begin to "wish to see you home."

Among Lydia's acquaintances in the village where she was attending school, was a young man whose name was Calvin Bailey. One who was a stranger in the village, but his smart, dapper ways, and his smooth address won him many friends among the thoughtless, the youth and the pleasure-loving of the villagers.

"He is so nice," said the girls.

"Calvin is the right sort of a fellow for a frolic," added the young men.

Lydia admired the young man in common with the rest of her companions, and was far too young, too much of a child to dread the very smoothness which so often covers a wicked heart.

The Winter passed into Spring and Lydia returned to her home.

That Summer in her happy home was one long to be remembered by the girl who was fast hastening to so different an experience in life.

The rides with her brothers, the hunts in the forest for nuts, for cones, for flowers and for rare ferns, the quiet, happy talks with her mother, the lovely Sabbath evenings when Father Jesse would solemnly tell of the mysteries of God. All these home joys were hardly appreciated at the time, but long after remembered with sharp pangs of agony.

When the Winter came, she returned to her school, and now the acquaintance already began with young Bailey, ripened into a mutual attachment, and in the Fall of 1828 the couple were married.

For a little time all went well. But the old, old story was told again. The story of a man's cruelty and a woman's suffering.

The young man was one who "drank occasionally." Had he been accused of being a drunkard he would have been highly insulted! But the misery of the poor girl was just as real as though things received their right names and "a spade be called a spade." Shall I attempt to picture her sufferings? The long, lonely hours of waiting, the longing dread to hear the stumbling footsteps, the tortures of fear, the vile abuse, the bitter cursings heaped upon her head, the vain regrets, the puny hopes of a better life born but to be strangled by the next night's waiting agony, the gradual benumbing, crushed feeling that life was made but for suffering-shall I tell of this? No! for those who are waiting and watching for the unsteady step know all I can tell, and they who have never borne the dreadful burden would not understand me.

This firm, quiet wife endured it all in silence. The home they owned was some distance from her father's, and she was too sensitive to complain of one whom she called by the sacred name of husband.

In 1829, a little girl was born, and this great blessing soothed the aching heart of the youthful mother.

The months and years went on, and one morning when Lydia had been married about three years, she woke up to find herself alone, deserted by her husband, poor and almost friendless. What should she do? What could she do? The only course open to her was to return to her father's home; but this was a little trial to her proud spirit. Still it was all that was left for her to do; and taking her little girl by the hand, she entered her parents' home and begged their sympathy and support. She did not ask in vain; the farmer and his wife wept at her sorrow, but gladly took her to their arms once more.

In six months after her return, a little boy was born to her, Feb. 1832, but died almost at its birth.

The girl was quieter, sadder and more subdued than ever. Her work was well done but no light laughter went with it. Tears were often in her eyes, and a constant aching was at her heart.

One year passed away, and in January, 1833, the little girl, her mother's only comfort, was taken ill and died. The mother felt she had indeed drank the last bitter drop from sorrow's cup. She little dreamed of the grand drama of the future, in which she was to act so noble a part. God alone could soothe or heal the wound, and He did.

Snow on the fields, on the hills and in the valleys. Snow on the house-tops and in the crevices. White, soft, dazzling snow.

The scene without was lovely beyond description. The trees weighted down with their crown of glory. But within, the inmates of the farm were comparatively prisoners.

"My dear," the mother said to her husband, "Lydia is full of sorrow. Her thoughts are far from her works; I fear for her unless something can be done to draw her mind from her trouble."

"Well, wife, these things are beyond our power Lydia will be all right in time."

"Pray God it may be so," she fervently replied.

In February, 1833, a young man who had been reared near Lydia's birthplace, by the name of Nikerson, paid a visit to the Goldthwaits.

In reply to their friendly questions, he told them he had settled in Upper Canada, had married the finest little woman in the kingdom, and was getting wealthy at merchandizing.

"What ails Lydia?" he asked one day.

"She is ill and full of sorrow." And then the sad story was told. And at its close, the young man sat silent for some time with tears of sympathy in his eyes for the poor young creature.

Finally, looking up, he said: "I'll tell you what, Mrs. Goldthwait, let me take that girl home with me, and I'll warrant my wife and I will bring back the roses to her cheeks, if kindness and comfort can do it. Don't you think a change of scenery and travel, with all its distractions, will occupy her mind to the exclusion of other things?"

"I am sure the change of climate would be of benefit, if we could get father and Lydia to consent to it," replied the mother. So after much consultation, it was arranged that when Mr. Nickerson returned, Lydia should go with him.

They started out in the last of February, and traveled by sleigh. The usual route to Canada, was down to Buffalo, across the Niagra river, then on up the lake shore. Mr. Nickerson's home was situated about the middle on the Canada side of the lake some distance from the shore, and he thought that by crossing the lake on the ice, he would save a hundred miles travel. They stopped at a hotel about twenty five miles above Buffalo on the Lake Erie shore, and although told that no one had ventured to ride over that winter, he was determined to go across. So one bright sunny morning they started. Fifteen of the twenty miles were traversed in speed and safety, when lo! they were stopped by a fissure in the ice about two feet wide, and stretching up and down as far as the eye could see. The ice was, of course, thin on the edges. But out, and over the chasm jumped the venturesome young man, and after stamping around and trying the temper of the frozen floor, he decided it would be all plain sailing when once across. This determined, he made a spring for the side where Lydia sat in the sleigh. One, two, three, over he goes,-but oh, horrible! the ice gives way and down he goes into the dark, silent waters beneath. Instinctively he threw one arm out, and resting it on the shelf of ice above him, succeeded in gradually drawing himself up on the ice. Nothing could turn him from his purpose, however, and accordingly he unhitched the horse, made him jump across, pushed the sleigh, with the trembling girl seated in it, after the horse, jumped over once more himself, and was soon under way again. Save that his clothes were frozen on him, neither Mr. Nickerson nor his companion felt any bad effects from their adventure. Reaching a hotel, they soon warmed and rested. From there to Mount Pleasant, which was his home, no incident occurred worthy of note.

Arriving at the house, Mrs. Nickerson met the travelers with a hearty welcome, and in the kind, thoughtful attention of this worthy couple, the sore heart of the patient girl was soothed and rested. The complete change of the mode of living, scenery and people had its effect upon her, and she grew more resigned day by day to her broken life.

The people who lived in the thriving little village were hospitable and kind. They were mostly Methodists. A man by the name of McIntyre, who was a class leader, induced Lydia to take a Sunday school class, and she was much interested in her labors in this direction.

The Spring and Summer came and passed away and Fall came. Few strangers visited the little village and life passed quietly on.

One day in October, 1833, a wagon load of people stopped at the door, and great was the surprise of all, when the party proved to be old Mr., and Mrs. Nickerson and the youngest son, Levi, who, of course, was Freeman's brother. They had with them two strange men. But we will let another chapter tell who and what they were.

Although so remote from the States, rumors of a new prophet and a "golden bible" had reached Mount Pleasant, and had been wondered over and commented upon.

Freeman had been told that his parents had joined the new Church, and he was rather disgusted with the information.

It will be necessary to say here that the old gentleman was indeed full of the gospel he had embraced, and was so anxious for the eternal welfare of his sons in Canada, that he had hitched up his carriage, gone on a visit to Kirtland and prevailed upon the Prophet Joseph Smith and Elder Sidney Rigdon to accompany him on a visit to his sons, Moses and Freeman, in Mount Pleasant.

These two brethren were the strangers who were with the aged parents.

"Well father," said Freeman when told who they were, "I will welcome them for your sake, but I would just about as soon you had brought a nest of vipers and turned them loose upon us."

Moses and Freeman were wealthy merchants and men of influence in Mount Pleasant. On the evening of the arrival, after the bustle of welcome and a warm supper were over, everyone was too tired to talk, so all retired to rest. Next morning many were the curious glances that Lydia cast at this strange man who dared to call himself a prophet.

She saw a tall, well-built form, with the carriage of an Apollo, brown hair, handsome blue eyes, which seemed to dive down to the innermost thoughts with their sharp, penetrating gaze, a striking countenance, and with manners at once majestic yet gentle, dignified yet exceedingly pleasant.

Elder Rigdon was a middle-aged man of medium hight, stout and quite good-looking, but without the noble grandeur that was so distinguishing a mark of the prophet.

The day was spent by the travelers in examining a fine new store which had just been erected by the Nickerson brothers, and in looking around the premises as also in walking through the village itself.

The Elders were very wise. They said nothing about their views or doctrines, but waited patiently until some one should express an interest.

As evening drew near Mr. Nickerson became anxious to hear something of the newcomer's faith.

"Oh," said he, "just let him talk; I'll silence him if he undertakes to talk about the Bible. I guess I know as much about the scriptures as he does."

This was to his wife whom he directed to place the family Bible on the table in the parlor.

As soon as supper was over, he invited his visitors and family to go up stairs to the parlor, where he said they would have some talk. All, accordingly, repaired to the large well-furnished room, and then Mr. N. said to the Prophet:

"Now, Mr. Smith, I wish you and Mr. Rigdon to speak freely. Say what you wish and tell us what you believe. We will listen."

Turning to his wife, he whispered, "now you'll see how I shall shut him up."

The Prophet commenced by relating the scenes of his early life. He told how the angel visited him, of his finding the plates, the translation of them, and gave a short account of the matter contained in the Book of Mormon.

As the speaker continued his wonderful narrative, Lydia, who was listening and watching him intently, saw his face become white and a shining glow seemed to beam from every feature.

As his story progressed he would often allude to passages of scripture. Then Mr. N. would speak up and endeavor to confound him. But the attempt was soon acknowledged even by himself to be futile.

The Prophet bore a faithful testimony that the Priesthood was again restored to the earth, and that God and His Son had conferred upon him the keys of the Aaronic and Melchisedek Priesthoods. He stated that the last dispensation had come, and the words of Jesus were now in force-"Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned."

Elder Rigdon spoke after the Prophet ceased. He related some of his early experiences, and told those present that he had received a testimony for himself of the truth of what Joseph had said, and then exhorted all present to take the advice of the ancient Apostle James, and ask God, and the testimony would be given to each one; for God is the same now as He was anciently, and has communicated His only gospel to men. "God," said Elder Rigdon, "is no respecter of persons, but will give to all that ask of Him a knowledge of the things Joseph Smith has declared unto you whether they are true or false, of God or of man."

You may be sure that by this time Mr. N. was quite willing to sit and listen, saying but little to interrupt or confound.

After both men were through speaking, many questions were asked by all present for information. The listeners were honest-hearted people, and when truth is told to such, they are constrained to accept and believe.

"And is this then," said Mr. N., "the curious religion the newspapers tell so much about? Why if what you have just said is not good sound sense, then I don't know what sense is."

A feeling of agreeable disappointment was felt by Mr. N. and family that these strange men were so different to the various representations of them.

Seldom have any petitions been sent up to heaven more fervent and earnest than were those of the inhabitants of Mr. N.'s home that night.

Next day notice was sent out that there would be public preaching in the Nickerson Bros', new store-house. A large and attentive audience was present.

Elder Sidney Rigdon spoke to the people with great clearness on the first principles of the gospel, and closed with a strong testimony to the truth of so-called "Mormonism."

The Prophet then arose and poured forth a golden stream of words, many of which were verily pearls without price. Setting forth the restoration of the gospel and the great work that had commenced on the earth. With power he exhorted every one who was present to seek for the truth of his and his companion's words from the source of all light, all truth, all religion, and a knowledge of the truth of the same should surely follow.

Great was the excitement among the peaceful dwellers in Mount Pleasant.

The next day Mr. N. and wife, his father and mother, accompanied by the two strangers, went a distance of ten miles to visit some particular friends and tell them of these wonderful things they had heard and by this time fully believed.

Returning the following day, religious services were again held in the Nikerson store-house.

A large and attentive audience listened to all that was said, and at the close of the meeting several persons came forward and requested baptism.

The day following a meeting was again held, and after it was over the Prophet baptized twelve persons, among whom was Lydia Bailey, Mr. N. and all of his household. She who was always so sober and full of reflection had received the glad message with trembling joy. She was filled with a bright, peaceful influence and was full of gratitude that God had spared her to hear and accept His glorious gospel. How often we wish and even pray for that which would be our greatest misfortune! The lonely girl had thought of death and its rest with a longing heart, but now, why here was life, life eternal! Life filled to the utmost with good works, joy, and happiness. No matter what should come now, she should know it was all for the best. That is one of the greatest charms of our holy religion. Whatever is, is always for the best if we are only true and pure.

So into the water goes Lydia with a light step and happy heart. She was so filled with the Holy Ghost while standing in the water after she was baptized that she was constrained to cry aloud,

"Glory to God in the highest! Thanks be to His holy name that I have lived to see this day and be a partaker of this great blessing."

In the evening, the new members of the Church assembled in Mr. N.'s house for confirmation. God bestowed His Spirit very freely and the Prophet gave much valuable instruction.

Two more persons came to the Prophet and requested baptism at the meeting the next day. It was attended to and a branch of the Church was organized. Freeman Nickerson was ordained as the presiding Elder.

The evening of this day (which was the seventh day, the Prophet had been there, and came on Monday, October 24, 1833), the family were all seated around the wide, old-fashioned fire-place in the parlor listening to the Prophet's words and full of rejoicing.

"I would be so glad if some one who has been baptized could receive the gift of tongues as the ancient Saints did and speak to us," said Moses Nickerson.

"If one of you will rise up and open your mouth it shall be filled, and you shall speak in tongues," replied the Prophet.

Every one then turned as by a common instinct to Lydia, and said with one voice, "Sister Lydia rise up."

And then the great glory of God was manifested to this weak but trusting girl. She was enveloped as with a flame, and, unable longer to retain her seat, she arose and her mouth was filled with the praises of God and His glory. The spirit of tongues was upon her, and she was clothed in a shining light, so bright that all present saw it with great distinctness above the light of the fire and the candles.

The visitors had desired to return on the next day, which was Tuesday. Accordingly, preparations were made for their departure. It was decided that the Prophet and Elder Rigdon should return by crossing Lake Erie, Freeman giving them the money to do so. They all started out together- old Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson, and Joseph and Sydney. The journey was thus shortened by two or three hundred miles for the Prophet and his companion.

That morning, while the team was being hitched up, Joseph paced back and forth in the sitting room in deep study. Finally he spoke up and said:

"I have been pondering on Sister Lydia's lonely condition, and wondering why it is that she has passed through so much sorrow and affliction and is thus separated from all her relatives. I now understand it. The Lord has suffered it even as He allowed Joseph of old to be afflicted, who was sold by his brethren as a slave into a far country, and through that became a savior to his father's house and country. Even so shall it be with her, the hand of the Lord will overrule it for good to her and her father's family."

Turning to the young girl he continued: "Sister Lydia, great are your blessings. The Lord, your Savior, loves you, and will overrule all your past sorrows and afflictions for good unto you. Let your heart be comforted. You are of the blood of Israel descended through the loins of Ephraim. You shall yet be a savior to your father's house. Therefore be comforted, and let your heart rejoice, for the Lord has a great work for you to do. Be faithful and endure unto the end and all will be well."

Immediately after that the party set out, and left behind many warm and faithful friends.

The good work thus commenced continued with unabated vigor and numbers came forward and were baptized.