HISTORY OF CHURCH

A FAMILY HOME OPERA

LIBRETTO BY LARA CANDLAND AND CHRISTIAN ASPLUND

MUSIC BY CHRISTIAN ASPLUND

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

The idea for this piece was inspired by the children’s operas of Steven Oliver, the “Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged)”, and the many forms of story telling in the LDS primary tradition, especially those that utilize cutouts and felt boards. As we were discussing the idea for this work, we talked about making a piece that would be simple, portable, and suitable for amateur musicians. From there, the idea of the Family Home Opera evolved. Stories originated from The Best Loved Stories of the LDS People vol. III, and thence from primary documents used in that volume.

Any of these stories may be performed separately. They may also be performed in any order that seems appropriate.

We chose a few stories that we found especially poignant and unique. We hope that families and LDS musicians will be inspired by these pieces, and maybe someday be inspired to write down their own stories!

1. The Stream

Christina Jensen A pregnant woman in her twenties

Brother Jensen Her husband

Narrator

Props:

Handcart

Cooking supplies

Sound Effects:

Sounds of creaky wheels passing over a rough, rocky, trail

Trudging sounds

Sounds of unloading supplies, setting up camp, starting fires, cooking, etc.

Sound of a small stream or creek

2. Small Things

Characters:

Mrs. Brown A woman opposed to the church in her thirties or forties

Mr. Brown A man converting to the gospel, Mrs. Brown’s husband

Small Child

Props:

Pitcher of water

Wooden or other dish or bowl to pour water into

Scrubbing brush

Soup tureen other pot to serve soup from

Seashell

Pheasants

Sound Effects:

Little tinkling bell

Footsteps

Branch breaking

Sizzling butter

Rattling paper

3. Courage Before a Mob

Characters:

Louisa Free A girl of twelve or thirteen

Eliza Free Her sister, aged ten or eleven

Emmeline Free Their cousin, aged thirteen

Grandfather Andrew Free The prisoner, the girls’ grandfather

Mob Captain

The Mob Group of men

Props:

Red flag

Horses

Camping items for the mob

Rifles or shotguns for the mob

Perhaps a gavel for the mob tribunal

Sound Effects:

Drum(s)

Marching and horse hoof sounds

Tree climbing sounds

Setting up camp sounds (dismounting of horses, throwing down sacks of heavy items, clatter of pots and pans)

Guns being cocked

Murmuring from a fairly large mob

1. THE LITTLE STREAM

NARRATOR

(OVER #1: “HANDCART MUSIC”. )

(TIRED WALKING SOUNDS AND CREAKY HANDCART WHEEL SOUNDS)

In 1846, mobs forced the saints to leave the United States. For over three decades, they traveled vast distances over land to reach their new home carved out of the wilderness, first in covered wagons, and later with handcarts.

Christina Jensen and her husband were two of these handcart pioneers. It is the summer of 1857 somewhere between Winter Quarters and the Salt Lake Valley.

BROTHER JENSEN

They may have stopped already, Christina.

CHRISTINA

I couldn’t eat a thing, but you must, I know, as you are pulling the cart for both of us.

BROTHER JENSEN

You must not grow thinner as your belly gets bigger. The wee one needs to grow, and your body needs strength to carry its burden.

CHRISTINA

I shall walk faster, my dear. The Lord will help me to walk faster.

(WALKING AND WHEEL SOUNDS (AND “#1: HANDCART MUSIC) GET A BIT FASTER)

NARRATOR (over walking music)

Day after day they walked, trying to keep up with their faster brothers and sisters. But each day, they would fall behind. When the saints stopped for lunch, Christina would have to keep walking for twenty more minutes to catch up to the camp. By the time she got there, most of the food would be already eaten. The food that was left made her sick to look at or smell, let alone eat. And before she had a chance to eat very much, the rest of the saints were already getting up to start on the trail again.

CHRISTINA

Laws, Husband, they get faster and faster and I get slower and slower. I’m sorry to keep you back.

BROTHER JENSEN

Your belly gets bigger, my wife, and your feet have naught the strength to carry it faster. You mustn’t apologize. Some day we will have a strong son to help us carry our burdens!

CHRISTINA

In the Promised Land, with our people, in a home from which we will never flee again!

BROTHER JENSEN

You are correct, wife, to look forward and not to dwell on the difficult present.

CHRISTINA AND BRO. JENSEN

(TOGETHER SING A FEW LINES FROM A TRADITIONAL HYMN, SUCH AS “COME, COME, YE SAINTS”—AUDIENCE MAY JOIN IN)

CHRISTINA

And sometimes I remember sausage, and sometimes eggs, and sometimes of the feasts my mother prepared at Christmas, but when we arrive at camp, and I smell the ashes from the fire, and the stale, thin soup that is left, my appetite runs away.

BRO. JENSEN

In the Promised Land, we will have our own hog to kill, and our own sausage and bacon and fresh roast to eat. That is the sausage I think of.

CHRISTINA

You are correct, husband, to look forward, to not dwell on the feeling in our bellies at present.

NARRATOR

(WALKING AND WHEEL SOUNDS STOP. CAMP SOUNDS: UNLOADING SOUNDS, FIRE STARTING AND FIRE SOUNDS, CLATTER OF POTS AND UTENSILS IN PREPARING FOOD, ETC.)

When they stopped for the evening, Catherine and her husband would have fallen behind even more, because she had gotten so tired. It was dusty and hot in the afternoon, and each day her belly got bigger, Catherine felt hotter. By the time they stopped for the evening, the saints would have already eaten again and cleaned up. Catherine would have to prepare supper by herself, but she was so tired that sometimes she didn’t care if she ate and crumpled to the ground to rest her weary body. Even when she had enough energy, cooking was very hard over an open fire and it made her feel sick. Her husband was not a very good cook, and his cooking made her feel even more ill. He did his best, and tried to ask her how to cook things, but even talking about cooking made her sick. So he did his

best, but his food made her even sicker. She had to pretend she just wasn’t hungry so that he wouldn’t feel bad.

BRO. JENSEN

Could you manage just one bite?

CHRISTINA

I could not manage it; perhaps later, my dear.

BRO. JENSEN

Could you sip some gruel?

CHRISTINA

A sip of water, perhaps.

BRO. JENSEN

You must have more than water, wife.

CHRISTINA

(DOES NOT RESPOND. SHE HAS FALLEN ASLEEP.)

BRO. JENSEN

Some gruel, my dear?

CHRISTINA

(DOES NOT RESPOND)

BRO. JENSEN

She sleeps! How can I get her to eat? She must eat!

NARRATOR

One afternoon, they fell behind as usual, but the trail wasn’t as flat as it had been. There were lots of hills and trees. Pretty soon they couldn’t see the rest of the saints. They walked until it was almost dark, thinking they would never find the other saints again. They stopped and listened carefully for a minute. Way off in the distance they heard a fiddle and a little penny whistle playing a tune.

(“#2: CAMP TUNE”, VERY QUIETLY)

By now it was dark. They turned off the trail and headed straight for the sound.

(“#2: CAMP TUNE” GRADUALLY GETS LOUDER AS THEY GET CLOSER)

At last they arrived at the camp, where the other saints were already going to sleep. The next morning after breakfast, the captain announced that they were lost and that they had no water. Catherine’s husband was very worried because he knew that if Catherine didn’t have water soon, it would be very dangerous for the baby. The captain and his helpers led the company as best they could to where they thought the trail was, but by nightfall, they were still searching. They had not found water, either, and everyone was very thirsty, but especially Catherine. She knew that if she didn’t get water soon, she might lose her baby. She lay in her blankets that night, too thirsty to sleep. She prayed and asked Heavenly Father to send water.

CHRISTINA

Dear Father, as we follow thy path to the new Promised Land, please guide us, and let water flow from thee. Please send dew from heaven! Please help us like you helped the children of Israel in days past, and I promise to you my firstborn if you will sustain us on our journey to thy chosen place. Amen.

NARRATOR

The camp became quieter and quieter as everyone except Catherine fell asleep.

(VERY QUIET RUNNING WATER SOUND, GETTING LOUDER AS SHE APPROCHES THE STREAM. ALSO, VAMP FROM “A LITTLE STREAM” MAY BEGIN VERY QUIETLY.)

Catherine heard a sound. It was a quiet but very comforting, hopeful sound. Could it be? It was the sound of running water. She crept out of bed and followed the sound through the dark brush. Very close to the edge of the camp she found a small, clear, cool stream. She gratefully drank as much water as she could and then went back to the camp and woke her husband. She told him about the stream, but he told her it was just a dream. He said that when people are very thirsty they sometimes imagine there is water, but she kept telling him it was real. Finally he agreed to come look and, sure enough, there was the clear cool stream. He rushed back and woke up the men in the camp. They drank, brought their animals to drink, and filled up containers with water. When everyone had quenched their thirst, they all went back to bed. In the morning they went back to the stream, but it had dried up.

Song (All):

#3: A LITTLE STREAM

Heavenly Father

You give us water day by day

To keep our bodies alive.

Jesus gives us living water.

To keep our souls alive.

When we forget how much we need water,

We lose our way and wander,

We think we know the best way.

We take shortcuts that lead away

from the path by the river

And go into the dry, wild prairie.

When this happens

We are very thirsty

And remember receive

Our water from thee.

You lead us back to the path

And if, on our way back,

We faint from thirst and sun,

You give us a cold little stream.

2. A TINY POTATO

NARRATOR

The earliest latter-day saints faced great opposition, even from their own families. One of these brave converts was Benjamin Brown, who joined the Church in New York state in 1835. As we begin the scene, Mrs. Brown is chasing Mr. Brown to the river’s edge, where he is about to be baptized.

MRS. BROWN

(HUFFING AND PUFFING, FOLLOWING MR. BROWN TO THE RIVER’S EDGE)

I declare, Mr. Brown, you are a foolish man, following other foolish men into the water.

(MRS. BROWN TUGS ON MR. BROWN’S

SLEEVE, BUT HE CONTINUES WADING INTO

THE RIVER.)

Mr. Brown! Mr. Brown! Stop at once!

We shall both look the fools when you have joined this silly, motley clan of visionaries, and given all of your earthly possessions to support them who know not from where their next coin will drop, or how they will eat their next crust of bread, and everybody knows it. Mr. Brown, if you go under that water…

(MRS. BROWN FOLDS HER ARMS IN

DISGUST. MR. BROWN IS BAPTIZED.)

NARRATOR

Mrs. Brown could not stop Mr. Brown from being baptized into this small, strange new sect.

MRS. BROWN

I never! Mr. Brown, let it be known, on the record, that I oppose this occurrence!

(LIGHTS DOWN)

MR. BROWN

My wife, who had managed to be present when I was going to the water for baptism, and even threatened that she would not live with me, was, for a long while after, (perhaps a year and a half,) bitterly opposed to the work, but I knew from the Lord that she would come into the Church, and I told her so. As the way she was at last brought in was very curious, I will mention it: She dreamed one night that a large company of visitors had come to her house, for whom she had to prepare supper. In the dream, a small child appeared from nowhere to help her with the preparations.

SMALL CHILD

Mrs. Brown, how will you prepare supper for such a large company?

MRS. BROWN

(LAUGHS—TINKLING BELL SOUND)

Why, look, wee child, this is all the food I have!

SMALL CHILD

A purple potato!

MRS. BROWN

And no bigger than a robin’s egg!

SMALL CHILD

(LAUGHS—TINKLING BELL SOUND)

I’ve never seen such a curious thing!

MRS. BROWN

(POURING WATER INTO A WOODEN

TRENCHER (PLATTER)—POURING SOUNDS)

Please assist me in preparing this impossible supper, child. Here are the ingredients we have: water, a tiny purple potato, and a wooden trencher. No salt, no flour, no eggs, no butter, no spoon, no fork, no knife…

SMALL CHILD

(LAUGHS—TINKLING BELL SOUND)

Certainly we will not be able to!

MRS. BROWN

I do not see that we have any choice at all. Our company is waiting. Let me scrub the trencher first.

(POURING SOUNDS, SCRUBBING SOUNDS)

SMALL CHILD

May I scrub the little potato?

MRS. BROWN

You may, and then I shall attempt to make a potato leek soup.

SMALL CHILD

(SCRUBBING SOUNDS)

Have you any leeks?

MRS. BROWN

I have no leeks, nor do I have a spoon with which to stir my soup. . .

SMALL CHILD

(RUNNING TO THE WINDOW—

FOOTSTEP SOUNDS)

I know!

(RUNNING OUT TO THE TREE—

FOOTSTEP SOUNDS)

MRS. BROWN

I haven’t a pot to cook in, or a spoon to stir with. What in heaven has happened to my pantry? I shall have to cook soup in a wooden trencher!

(DROPS THE POTATO INTO THE TRENCHER,

SLOSHES THE POTATO AROUND THE

TRENCHER THEN HEARS THE SOUND OF A BRANCH BREAKING)

MRS. BROWN

And what is that child doing out by the tree?

SMALL CHILD

I have cracked a stick from the branch of the tree—this is your spoon, Mrs. Brown.

MRS. BROWN

Thank you, child.

(POTATO SPINS)

Why, what in the name of heaven. . .

SMALL CHILD

The funny potato is spinning round and round!

MRS. BROWN

I smell butter, and simmering leeks . . . .

SMALL CHILD

And where did the beautiful dish come from?

MRS. BROWN

My mother’s tureen—the one that broke in Boston when I was a girl!

SMALL CHILD

(LAUGHS—TINKLING BELL SOUND)

The water has turned to cream! The smell! Pour the soup, Mrs. Brown, pour the soup!

MRS. BROWN

Hadn’t I best taste the soup before serving it to company?

SMALL CHILD

Mrs. Brown, I shall serve the soup to your company, and it will be the most delicious one they have ever eaten!

(TAKES THE TUREEN OF SOUP TO THE

GUESTS—FOOTSTEP SOUNDS)

MRS. BROWN

But dear potato, you are still here. Will you provide our meat as well? What will I prepare for our next course?

(LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW)

If Mr. Brown were home he would bring me those two pheasants outside from the tree.

(FOOTSTEP SOUNDS AND SPINNING SOUNDS)

SMALL CHILD

Why the potato is turning without the help of human hands!

MRS. BROWN

And that pair of pheasants on my beautiful sycamore tree has flown from their branch!

SMALL CHILD

And I smell a brown smell, the brown smell of a roasting bird!

MRS. BROWN

(GASPS)

Place the trencher below the board! Catch the juices from the roasted pheasants!

SMALL CHILD

(LAUGHS—TINKLING BELL SOUND)

Two beautiful roasted birds!

MRS. BROWN

They are perfectly roasted! But we have nothing on which to serve them, of course. This is the oddest supper party I have ever prepared!

SMALL CHILD

(RUNS TO THE WINDOWSILL)

Here, this little seashell from your windowsill can be our serving dish!

(SHE HANDS MRS. BROWN A SEASHELL

FROM THE WINDOWSILL)

MRS. BROWN

This wee thing?

SMALL CHILD

Place it under the birds!

(MRS. BROWN SLIDES THE SHELL UNDER

THE BIRDS—SCRAPING SOUNDS)

MRS. BROWN

This looks like just the French Seashell platter my dear friend Mrs. King received at her wedding! How beautiful the birds look upon it!

SMALL CHILD

Let me clear the soup plates, and then I will serve the pheasant.

(FOOTSTEPS)

MR. BROWN

And thus Mrs. Brown’s dream continued on. The potato spun round and the leaves from her beloved tree became a salad course (TINKLING BELL), again the potato turned, and the nuts became a pecan tart (TINKLING BELL) and so on, and Mrs. Brown declares to this day that never has she prepared a finer feast, not even with a full pantry, and even in her wakened state! As the meal in her dream came to an end, I was wakened by a loud voice that said to me:

LOUD VOICE

(CLAP SOUND)

Wake up, at once, and do not delay. Here are the words that you must say to your wife without waiting:

(MR. BROWN WAKES UP MRS. BROWN)

MR. BROWN

Mrs. Brown! Arise instantly, for the Lord has a message you must hear.

MRS. BROWN

What? Where am I?

MR. BROWN

I was commanded to tell you the following message from above: “Don’t you remember hearing that you should not despise the day of small things?”

MRS. BROWN

I just had the most singular dream! I believe my dream was sent from the Lord, and that it connects to your message. I do remember hearing, as a child, that I “should not despise the day of small things!” The wonderful concurrence of these words with the dream I have just had! Mr. Brown, in my dream I prepared a magnificent feast on fine china, made only with the smallest, oddest potato you have ever seen! [continues to talk, crossfading with MR. BROWN’s lines following]

MR. BROWN

And the self-evident interpretation of this dream, referring as it did to her past conduct (for one of the principal reasons of the opposition she felt to my joining the Church was, that she considered it disgraced her to have her husband belong to a church that was so poor, and everywhere spoken against), so impressed itself upon her mind, with other confirmations, that she was baptized, and has remained firm to the Church ever since.

SMALL CHILD

Mrs. Brown, be baptized at once! You must!

(LAUGHS, TINKLING BELL SOUNDS)

Song (All):

#4: THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS

A feast from a tiny potato

Could only happen in a dream.

But is it a dream

When the farmer and God

Turn a tiny potato into a harvest?

The saints were poor.

Their church was small and strange,

Their prophets simple, young, unlearned.

Those with pure hearts

Didn't mind.

They remembered the Liahona,

The Brasen Serpent,

Naaman's seven washings,

The mustard seed,

The ship's helm,

The still small voice,

The little child.

Lord, help us remember

that by small and simple things

are great things brought to pass.

The weak things of the world

Shall come forth and break down the mighty and strong ones.

The meek shall inherit the earth;

And a little child shall lead them.

3. COURAGE BEFORE A MOB

NARRATOR

In 1837 mobs drove the saints from their homes in Ohio and Jackson County, Missouri, to the western edge of Missouri, where they thought they would be safe. After a brief time of peace they were again attacked and threatened. The girls Louisa and Emmeline Wells with Eliza Free were left in a farm house which they shared with the women and children of five families. All the men and older boys were defending the city of Far West.

The girls had the job of hiding on a hilltop and watching for mobs around the clock. It was hot and humid and there was no shade on the hill. They took turns getting food from the house. They took turns standing watch at night while the others slept on the ground. After two weeks of this, Louisa said:

LOUISA FREE

Today is Tuesday—is it only Tuesday? Is it Tuesday again?

EMMELINE FREE

What can they still want with Far West? Tuesday. . . why it’s been three weeks we’ve stood watch.

LOUISA FREE

Father told us we must continue to stand watch against the mobs, night and day. The Lord must know that we have more strength left in us, for I am not so sure I can do it any longer!

ELIZA FREE

It’s been ever so long since we’ve seen anyone. I’m getting hungry—can we eat supper now?

(“#5: MOB MARCH” BEGINS)

(QUIET SOUNDS OF MARCHING, HORSE HOOVES, AND A DRUM BEAT IN RHYTHM WITH “MOB MARCH”, STARTING QUIET AND GRADUALLY GETTING LOUDER UNTIL THE MOB PASSES BY)

EMMELINE FREE

Climb the tree!

ELIZA FREE

Why? Oh, grab my hand, Emmeline. I see a mob approaching.

LOUISA FREE

It appears they bring a prisoner.

(THE GIRLS CLIMB THE TREE (CLIMBING SOUNDS)—THE MOB PASSES BY)

EMMELINE FREE

That prisoner is an old man. . . can you see him?

NARRATOR

The girls saw a troop of horsemen near, marching with a red flag and the beating of drums. They had with them a prisoner, on foot, whom they were thus triumphantly marching to their camp. They were a troop of the mob. The prisoner was grandfather Andrew Free.

ELIZA FREE

(GASPS: Begins to let out a cry, but is stopped by her companions. She speaks to them in a whisper.)

I believe they have Grandfather Free—who does not even carry a weapon! What harm can he be?

LOUISA FREE

(WHISPERS)

I’m following him.

EMMELINE FREE

(WHISPERS)

Louisa, wait! We’ll all follow. . . .

ELIZA FREE

What good can we possibly do for him, against this angry mob? And our watch. . . what of our mothers, and our brothers and sisters?

LOUISA FREE

The Lord will guide us.

EMMELINE

Quick! We’re losing sight! Be quiet as Indians now!

NARRATOR

The girls followed secretly, being careful not to be seen or heard.

(“#5: MOB MARCH” STOPS.)

When the mob reached a clearing, they formed camp.

(SOUNDS OF SETTING UP CAMP, UNLOADING LARGE ITEMS)

The captain had the prisoner brought forward.

(“#6: OMINOUS TRIBUNAL” STARTS)

Before the mob tribunal stood the old man, calm and upright in his integrity, and resolved in his faith. No one was near to comfort him. He stood alone, face to face with death, with those stern, cruel men, whose class had shown so little mercy in Missouri, massacring men, women and children, at Haun's Mill, and elsewhere about the same time.

MOB CAPTAIN

Andrew Free: you have been charged by this tribunal with treason against the state of Missouri and its people for being a minister of the Mormon religion and teaching its treasonous heresies. The tribunal has found you guilty and pronounces the sentence of death by shooting upon you. Before carrying out this sentence, we have left you but one escape from your certain execution. The tribunal offers you mercy and will release you if you swear here and now to renounce Joe Smith and his infernal religion. And you must be quick before the sun sets.

MOB

Shoot the old man! Shoot him on the spot!

(LOUISA SNEAKS INTO THE CAMP, HIDES BEHIND A TREE, BREATHLESS)

MOB CAPTAIN

What will it be, old man: your so-called prophet or your life?

GRANDFATHER FREE

I have not long to live. At the most you cannot deprive me of many days. I will never betray or deny my faith, which I know to be of God.

(“#6: OMINOUS TRIBUNAL” STOPS)

(GRAND FATHER FREE RIPS OPEN HIS SHIRT)

Here is my chest--shoot away. I am ready to die for my religion!

(GUN COCKING SOUNDS)

(LOUISA COVERS HER MOUTH WITH HER HAND.)

NARRATOR

Andrew Free stood calmly and waited for the mob to fire, but the band was abashed at his fearless bearing and answer. For a time, the Captain and his men consulted,

(MURMURINGS FROM THE MOB)

and after a few minutes, the Captain announced:

MOB CAPTAIN

I do not wish to spoil my supper tonight. The tribunal has decided to give you until morning to reconsider whether you would retract your faith or die. At sunrise you’ll be dead, or alive, at your choosing.

(GRANDFATHER FREE IS LED TO HIS TENT BY TWO GUARDS. HE CATCHES LOUISA’S EYE AND SHAKES HIS HEAD. LOUISA STEALS BACK TO THE OTHER GIRLS IN THE BUSHES.)

NARRATOR

The girls had a consultation of their own in the bushes away from the horsemen’s camp. They all agreed that there was nothing to be done but wait and watch. They vowed to watch and pray over their Grandfather even though they had missed many nights sleep over the weeks of their watch.

LOUISA FREE

(WHISPERS)

Perhaps the guards will sleep, and I can free him!

(“#7: EVENING PRAYER” BEGINS)

(THE SUN GOES DOWN, LOUISA KNEELS)

Oh Lord, if it be thy will, spare the life of Grandfather Free, who I know to be one of your most faithful servants. Dear Lord, show me the way to let him go, let the guards sleep, and silence the dogs! Grandfather has many good years ahead—he has not yet shown my baby brother how to play the flute, or how to carve a chair. We need him, Dear Lord. I shall stay on my knees all night, Lord. I know you can help me, show me the way!

(WHISPERS FROM LOUISA’S PRAYER CONTINUES. LIGHTS DOWN ON LOUISA, AND THEN THE OTHER GIRLS TAKE TURNS PRAYING. LIGHTS UP ON GRANDFATHER FREE)

GRANDFATHER FREE

I sleep, Lord, the sleep of the sure and elect. Thou knowest my heart, thou knowest my faith, and into thy hands I give myself body and soul. Amen.

(“#7: EVENING PRAYER” STOPS)

(LIGHTS DOWN, THEN BIRDS CHIRPING, THEN LIGHTS GRADUALLY UP)

NARRATOR

Grandpa Free snored under the stars, as only a man at peace with his conscience could, while a guard watched over him, rifle in hand.

(“#8: BUGLE TUNE”)

As the sun rose, a bugle awakened the camp. Before anyone had had any breakfast, the captain assembled the tribunal again and ordered the prisoner arise.

LOUISA FREE

The sun! Oh, Lord, you have not let him go! I know I promised to stay on my knees all night, but I have been guarding the city night and day for three weeks, and I missed my supper last night. Oh Lord, I beg you one last time to let him go! He is a kind, good man, and does not deserve such a death! My father would want to see him one last time!

(“#9: PEACEFUL TRIBUNAL” BEGINS)

(THE THREE GIRLS HOLD HANDS)

MOB CAPTAIN

So, Mr. Free, what say ye? Are ye still willing to die for the sake of old Joe Smith? Know ye not that he is an imposter, a charlatan, a swindler. If ye but renounce your loyalty to him, we will not only let ye go, we will send a message to all the brave militiamen in the county, yea even the state, to leave you and your home unmolested. Yea, we will even protect you and yours if needed with a guard. What say ye? I’m sure you have been wrestling with your decision all through the night.

GRANDFATHER FREE

(OPENING HIS SHIRT AGAIN)

Here is my answer! I am ready to die now.

MOB CAPTAIN

Mr. Free, this cannot be true, that you would give your life for a fraud.

MOB

Murmurs.

GRANDFATHER FREE

Last night I slept like a baby. I wrestled with nothing. My answer is as before. I will never renounce Joseph Smith. He is the prophet of the Living God and through him God has restored the religion of Jesus in its purity. I fear not your bullets and bayonets. If God sees fit to allow you to kill me, I will be pleased to join the illustrious company of God’s martyrs through history. You congratulate yourself that you have captured a prisoner of war when I was in possession of no weapons but the word of God, which is sometimes spoken of as a double-edged sword. So again I say, shoot away, but may God have mercy on your souls if you so do. As for mine, and Joseph Smiths, and the mormons, yea, all of the saints since Adam, we fear not your threats and look forward to the good favor, yea even the presence of our Maker in the worlds to come.

(“#9: PEACEFUL TRIBUNAL” ENDS)

MOB

(CLUSTERED AROUND THE CAPTAIN)

Undecipherable murmurs.

LOUISA, EMMELINE AND ELIZA

(HANDS CLASPED IN PRAYER)

Undecipherable whispers.

(THEY MAY SING A HYMN HERE)

NARRATOR

At this, Free had conquered his captors, and the leader declared, with an oath that best not be repeated:

MOB CAPTAIN

Sir, we have been your captors for the past two days, but we now find that you have captured us, conquered us with your great courage. I now swear that we will let you go, and will protect you and your family if we can. Any man who can be so d----d true to any d----d religion deserves to live! You are free!

NARRATOR

The mob was taken aback by both the disciple’s speech and the Captain’s revised verdict, but after a stunned moment, a cheer began to arise from the mob. Men gathered around Grandfather Free, shook his hand, and several gave him corn dodgers and salt pork, and coins, to help him on his journey, whereupon he began began his trek in the opposite direction.

The girls, with their great skill at concealment, followed in the bushes behind Grandpa Free until they were out of sight of the mob, whereupon Louisa could stand it no more. She ran out and into her grandfather’s arms.

LOUISA FREE

(STEPS OUT OF HER HIDING PLACE)

The Lord has answered our prayers, Grandfather!

GRANDFATHER FREE

My granddaughter. Why, where did you come from?

LOUISA FREE

Grandfather, we watched everything that happened to you last night and this morning. How did you say all those things. You were like a lion.

GRANDFATHER FREE

I don’t know, my child. I suppose I have never forgotten what my father told me. He was killed by the British in the revolution. Before he left us on his last patrol, he told me that I should never be afraid of any man, or combination of men, so long as I stood for what is right and that it is better to die for truth and justice than to live under tyranny and the taint of dishonesty.

Song (All):

“#10: GOD GAVE THE SAINTS IN ALL AGES…”

God gave the saints in all ages

Courage to defy empty threats

They carried no weapons but the word

They called the Devil's bluff

But blessed are those

for whom the threat was not empty

Whose blood seals their testimony

Forever.

Their names shall be written

In the Lamb's Book of Life

With brother Joseph

And all brave martyrs since Abel.

THE END