Reminiscences of Claudius V. Spencer

From boyhood I have been subject to strong intuitions, both in regard to individuals and events in life, and also to dreams which have often preserved and guided me safely when my natural judgement and abilities would have failed. I write one remarkable incident. Living in Berkshire County, Massachusetts, about sixteen years of age, my father desired to send me to Nauvoo, Illinois with several thousand dollars worth of buggies, wagons etc. and wished me to go under the supervision of Stephen W. Crandall, brother-in-law of Senator Conklin. Crandall was a merchant, a Latter-day Saint elder. During the night I had a manifestation that caused me to next day to enter protest with father against going under Crandall control. I finally won the concession that I was to have legal power of attorney, which was not to be known unless circumstances demanded. When we reached Lake Erie, I was left on the wharf to watch goods while Crandall went to bargain for our passage. When he returned he had engaged passage for me and my goods on one boat and passage for himself and family on another. The manifestation I had had before coming came vividly to my mind and I insisted upon seeing the boat upon which I was to go. It was a bright, sunny day When I started up the gangplank cold chills ran down my spine and gloomy mists of darkness seemed around me, and increased during my stay on that boat. This so affected me that I told Crandall that I did not want to go on that boat. After some talk he waxed quite warm; said he would compel me to go. I then told him that I had power of attorney to do as I liked. The next day that boat went to the bottom of Lake Erie and every soul on board perished. This Stephen W. Crandall apostatized at Nauvoo, went back to Canaan County, New York and was crushed to death under a railway car.

Nauvoo in the Fall Of 1845

In the fall of 1845 Brigham Young set me apart for a mission. I filled the mission with good success, returning in the spring of 46. When the steamer on which I came back struck the landing at Nauvoo I jumped ashore and started for our old home east of the temple. On the way up I noticed that there was a change; that I did not meet any one I knew. When I reached the house I found it closed. After a time I got a stock of timber and beat in the kitchen door and got the front door open. While leaning on the front gate, I saw three men coming across the square that fronted our house, One of them was leading a pony, another had a coil of rope on his shoulder. "Are you a G___ D___ Mormon?" "It's none of your business what my politics or religion is; I'm free born and white." One of them said: "I can understand you are the son of that old Mormon cuss we run across the Mississippi last winter. Now if you will sign an agreement to give up Mormonism we will agree to peaceable possession of this home, and you will do that or get on this pony and take out for the Mormon camps or climb that cottonwood at the end of this forty foot rope," and pulling out his watch said, "You've got just fifteen minutes." The home was a good two-story brick nicely furnished with eastern furniture, a barn on the premises counted among the best in the state of Illinois. This property was, by an arrangement made with my father, built with money willed to me when I was a boy. I accepted the offer of the pony and there and then made my start for Salt Lake City. In riding through a little burg in Iowa I asked three men to place a fair evaluation the pony which they fixed at fifteen dollars. This is every cent I ever received for the house-and what was left in it, and a nice corner lot.

The Schofield Incident

In our early days in Salt Lake City, I met Mrs. Schofield, wife of Joseph Schofield, early-one morning, agonized with grief. She said, "Brother Spencer, my little four year old girl Isadore strayed yesterday and has been gone all night." Through inquiry I learned the child was last seen on the bench north of Brigham St. That was-open country then and wolves were plentiful, and I did not blame Sister Schofield for her agonized condition. After some talk she became more calm, and I said to her, "If you will stop these frantic ways, go into the house and get a good breakfast. I promise you in the name of the Lord to not only go and look for the little one, but to bring her back," A large promise for a little man. I mounted a swift horse went on to the bench and asked that my horse might take me to the child; laid the reins loose on his-neck and put the spurs to him. Instead of following the course in which he was headed, he turned east and after running about a mile he gave a snort, jumped sideways and nearly unhorsed me. I brought him up, went back to see what had frightened him, and there lay the babe sleeping peacefully. The pleasure I had in handing that little girl back to here mother's arms will be a joy forever. And the satisfaction in God's fulfilling my prophecy means more to me than gold, and taught me that Israel might have many prophets if her elders had the moral courage to mouth the dictates of the spirit and trust God for the rest.

Setting Apart the Missionaries

When the missionaries of the spring of 1850 were set apart. Heber C. Kimball officiated and seated the brethren on one bench. I took the bottom seat. Brother Kimball commenced at the head and asked, "Brother C, if you know a thing is black and we tell you it is white, will you say it is white?" "Yes, Brother Heber." Of the next brother, "If you know a thing is white and we say it is black, will you say it is black?" and ran the changes the whole lot getting the same answer until he came to me, when I said "No, Brother Heber, I'd die first." He stepped back, "Thank God, I've got one honest boy in the lot." He turned and scored the others as I think was the severest rebuke I ever heard given to any set of men. He gave me a marvelous blessing, among other things that I should be like Paul of old among the people of Great Britain. When he said to me, "Brother Spencer, you have done the biggest work here of any elder that has come."

On Return from A Mission In the fall of 1860

I went on a mission to England, returning in the spring of 1861 on account of ill health. I was appointed in charge of a shipload of saints. In going up the Missouri, the president or manager of the overland stage route to San Francisco was aboard our boat. Just before we reached Omaha he came to me and complimented me very highly for my kindness to the emigrants in my charge, and gave me an invitation as soon as I unloaded my saints at Florence, to come back to Omaha and be his guest to Salt Lake City, stating that he had a magnificent outfit; five stage coaches, hunting horses, fishing tackle and every paraphernalia for a wonderful trip. I thought this a big thing for a Mormon elder and when I had unloaded and housed my Saints I called on Elder Gates, who was presiding, to bid him goodbye. He said to me, "Don't be in a hurry, take a seat, I want to read you a letter." Which he did. It was from Brigham Young authorizing Brother Gates to stop any returning elder to be his assistant or counselor, and after reading it, said: "I choose to stop Elder C. V. Spencer." The saints I had brought over were mostly "independents" and had paid to the general office at Liverpool for their outfits to cross the plains. (They) expected to find tents, wagons, etc, at Florence on their arrival, but through some mistake, there was nothing to shelter them or feed them or move them. In a few days there was grave dissatisfaction shown some going to lawyers and judges to make complaints and it rested very heavy on me and Brother Gates. So much on him that it made him ill. I used to go up nights on the highest hill and supplicate for some relief to be opened up. On one of these nights it came to me as plain as any voice: "Go to Mr. Creighton, who is building the Overland Telegraph Line. Hire all your surplus men to him. Get the pay in advance and with it buy your emigrants their fit outs. I immediately went to the house and up to Brother Gates' bedside, but he seemed to think I had zeal without knowledge and asked me if I had gone dazed over the matter. I finally persuaded him to let me have Sera Sabin and an outfit to go into Missouri to buy cattle and we would go to Omaha and see Mr. Creighton; and if successful keep on our trip, and if not, we would come back from Omaha and not much harm done. I found Mr. Creighton in his office and our men were just what he wanted. We made a good bargain; he taking two hundred pounds freight for each married man he hired. At the conclusion of the terms I said, "Mr. Creighton, I want their pay in advance." He jumped up and said, "Have I been doing business with a crazy man?" I said, "Perhaps so, for my partner this morning asked just about the same question." He then asked me if I knew what the telegraph scrip was worth. I told him no. He said it was worth just about twelve cents on the dollar. I could have the wages advanced in script at one hundred cents. I told him I would see him again in a short time. Now at this time in Omaha there was a man, almost the facsimile of our John Kay, who had come to me before we got to Omaha and said, "I have fallen in love with you for the patience and kindness you show your poor emigrants, and if I can do anything for you while you are at Florence, call on me." I said to him, "Suppose I call you on a mission." He answered "All right." Now, just after I left Creighton's office I met this man and slapping him on the shoulder said: "You're the man I want. I want you to go on a Mormon mission." He said, "All right, Spencer, I'll go!" I told him I wanted him to go to Koontz Brothers Bankers and get them to cash so many thousand dollars of telegraph script at par. He took it as a joke, but when I pressed the matter, begged of me not to ask him to do such a fool trick. I told him I had two motives; one was to test him, the other was to show him there was a power in Mormonism. He accepted the mission and soon came back saying that Koontz Brothers and the force at the bank were in a roar of laughter and that Koontz senior would like to see the man who proposed such a financial plan. I said to him, "Very well." We went at once to the bank. When I entered the older brother wanted to know what I meant. I answered: "Mr. Gates, whom I represent, is agent of the Mormon emigration. He will have some thirty five thousand dollars in English sovereigns and there will be that much more in the hands of our emigrants to spend somewhere along the run; and we supposed that capitalists in Omaha would be anxious to have it spent in their town. That I was not asking any charity for our people, that perhaps no one knew better than he did that a month after the first telegraph passed from San Francisco to New York that telegraph scrip would not only be par, but ten percent above that. I simply asked him to make a good investment and secure our trade for the good of his town. That I was confident I could do this at Nebraska City, and that if not successful with him we should move our headquarters there within forty-eight hours. By this time he had become serious and said: "Mr. Spencer, I will have a conference with my brothers." He soon came out and offered to cash the script at par if I would pay the difference of exchange between Omaha and St. Louis. I answered: "No sir, not one cent! It's a clean face value or nothing." We closed the deal. When I went back to Creighton and accepted scrip and told him what we had done. He was dumbfounded and I was recognized in that town as something of a financier. But I carried my head low, feeling that God could compel results through a humble, weak man, who would follow the leadings of the Spirit where he could not use an able, strong man so well. I and Brother Sabin started immediately for Missouri for cattle. We found a herd of twelve hundred head of oxen. I purchased four hundred head for cash and four hundred credit. As soon as I received the cattle I started to retail and sold my yoke on the way to camp for $75.00.If my memory serves me well the purchase price was $52.00. While arranging the scrip deal at Omaha a fellow offered me a lot of wagons before they were levied on. I think his price was $65.00, and my offer was $50.00. I gave him an hour to telegraph to Chicago. He came to my room with a telegraph and sitting some distance away from me began to read, "We authorize you to sell so much--." I said to him: "I will read the balance of the message with my eyes shut, "If you can't get the figure take the Mormon offer spot cash." He exclaimed: "I believe you folks are wizards, those were the very words." We got our wagons, sent word to Brother Gates to move them at once to Florence. We were off after our cattle. The dissatisfaction in the camp was healed and from that time forth success crowned our efforts. Every emigrant who was to come by handcart who was able to work earned wages of Creighton and fared well. Their families came by wagons, comfortable without one cent extra expenses to the church. No handcarts were pulled that year, and I believe none have been pulled since. We left no debts for the church to pay, but when we were starting home, the sheriff of Omaha served a writ of attachment on our outfit for a debt of Joseph W. Young, three hundred dollars, which we paid.

The Dixie Outfit

In the spring of 1861, in answer to a request of Brigham Young, I furnished an outfit of cattle and wagon for the "Dixie Mission." I had just returned from a European mission, in debt for borrowed money, and raised the outfit from an old English brother on my "honor promise" he should be paid well, and turned the outfit over to the man designated by Brigham Young. The next fall when time came to pay for the outfit, myself and family were much exercised over our inability to pay, and it was made a special subject of prayer. One morning, about four O'clock, I woke my wife Louisa, telling her that the outfit I had furnished to go to Dixie was hauling wood and timber out of Bingham Canyon, instead of being in Dixie, and I saw the man and the outfit as plain as the day I gave the outfit. I

had a gentile to work for me and we were busy plowing to put in grain. When he arose in the morning I told him to go borrow a saddle and we would both strike out to hunt my Dixie outfit that I had seen in a dream. We hunted until noon. The hired man finished lunch first and when I went to the barn, he had our animals harnessed to the wagon. When I asked him what he meant he said he thought I had had enough of chasing a dream and he would go to the field and plow until eight or nine and I wouldn't 1ose much. I ordered the harness off in short order. During

the afternoon we found the wagon hid up in a lot in the sixth ward, took possession of it and brought it home. The next day the man was up for trial. The bishop had him produce the entire outfit and it was given back to me. Our prayers were answered and our good English brother was well paid.

I desire to leave these events of-my life as the words of a father to his children that they may contrast one man's experience against the nearly universal claim of Protestant religions, that the heavens are sealed from giving revelation in our day, and that the bible and belief In Jesus are all (that is) sufficient for eternal life and salvation. I affirm that the events I-have written are true and I have placed my signature hereto this second day of April, four o'clock P.M, being the hour and day of the month on which I was born seventy seven years ago.

Claudius Victor Spencer