“We should discuss the White Horse Prophecy,” Snow said.
Had he heard right? He stared at the prophet.
“I’m aware of your explorations in the restricted archives. I know the substance of what Brother Salazar has researched within our closed records. You both have been busy studying that prophecy.”
He decided not to be coy. “I want to find our great secret, Charles. We need to find it.”
“That secret has been missing a long time.”
But the sight of those wagons had provided him hope.
“I made the decision after your call yesterday,” Snow said. “Something told me it was the right location.” The older man paused, winded, and grabbed his breath.
“The Prophet Brigham hid the great secret away,” he said, “intending for us to find it one day.”
Snow shook his head. “We don’t know that.”
Only he and the prophet could have this conversation, as only they were currently privy to the story. Unfortunately, they each knew different parts. His had been learned from hard work and research, both in Utah and D.C., Snow’s had been handed to him by his predecessor.
And that’s what he needed to know.
“Every prophet since Brigham Young has wrestled with this same dilemma. I was hoping it might pass me by.” Snow pointed to the wooden box. “Go ahead.”
He opened the lid.
Inside lay an assortment of tattered documents, each tucked safely inside a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Mainly books and old newspapers, badly damaged from rot and mildew.
“That’s what we could salvage from the record stone in 1993,” Snow said. “Unimportant writings from long ago, save for the two packets on top.”
He’d already noticed both. Single sheets lay inside, their outer edges stained, as if burned. But their writing had survived.
“Examine both,” the prophet told him.
He lifted out the first plastic protector.
The script was tight and small, the ink barely readable.
I fear there has been too much mixing of the hairs with the butter for the good of the butter. The workers of wickedness would really like, now that the great Civil War is but a memory, to have attention again drawn to us and troops sent again to break us up. They openly avow their intention to break the power of the priesthood and destroy our sacred organization. I once thought that we could co-exist. That agreements could be honored. But it will not do for us to mix with the world and hope thereby to gain favor and friendship. I so tried to do what seemed correct and decent. During my life I spoke of this to no one. Instead, I leave this message for the faithful who come after me. Know that we carry a burden, one thrust upon us by Lincoln himself, but one we voluntarily accepted. When the great Civil War broke out I saw that fight as the White Horse Prophecy come true. Prophet Joseph predicted all that eventually happened, including our journey into the Rocky Mountains and his own demise. By 1863 the Constitution did in fact hang by a thread and, just as the prophecy stated would happen, Congress passed a law aimed at ruining us. So I sent an emissary to Mr. Lincoln. He received him with kindness and without formality. His stated mission was to inquire about statehood, which Mr. Lincoln avoided. Instead, a message was sent to me. Lincoln said he would leave us be, if I would leave him be. This was precisely what we had waited so many years to hear. All we have ever sought was the freedom to live in our own way. Lincoln knew us from Illinois. He told my emissary that he had read the Book of Mormon, which was encouraging to hear. But it would have been ill advised to make an agreement with any president without some sort of assurance that its terms would be honored. This was told to Lincoln, who offered something of a sufficient magnitude that we would know he intended to keep his word. He, in turn, demanded the same from us, which I provided. We each accepted the other’s offering and both sides honored the agreement. Unfortunately, Mr. Lincoln died before either one of our collaterals could be returned. No one from the government ever asked about what we held of theirs, nor of what they held of ours, which led me to conclude that no one other than myself knew either existed. So I kept silent. In doing so I fulfilled the rest of the prophecy, which said that we would act as the white horse savior of the nation. But Prophet Joseph also told us to stand by the Constitution of the United States, as it was given by the inspiration of God. That has never been done, at least not in my lifetime. What I gave Mr. Lincoln was the secret location of our wealth. Ever since the federal troops came in ’57 Saints have talked of our lost gold. I tell you now that none of that gold was lost. Instead, all was put to good use. I provided a map of its hiding place, where I also hid what Mr. Lincoln entrusted to us. Two months after our bargain was sealed Lincoln sent me a telegram that said Samuel, the Lamanite, stood guard over our secret in Washington, among the Word, which gave me great comfort. He also said that he keeps the most important part of the secret close to him every day. I told him that providence and nature guard his half of the bargain. He seemed to enjoy the great mystery he and I created. Prophet Joseph was right in all that he foretold. May you be equally correct too.