Posted by:
anybody
(
)
Date: June 12, 2023 04:56PM
Wasn't he lame or walked with a limp because of the surgery he had as an eight year old?
Here's a first hand account from a non-Mormon:
On landing at Nauvoo, I proceeded with the Doctor along the street which
I mentioned before as bordering on the strand. As I advanced with my
book in my hand, numerous Mormons came forth from their dwellings,
begging to be allowed to see its mysterious pages; and by the time I
reached the prophet's house, they amounted to a perfect crowd. I met
Joseph Smith at a short distance from his dwelling, and was regularly
introduced to him. I had the honour of an interview with him who is a
prophet, a seer, a merchant, a "revelator," a president, an elder, an
editor, and the general of the "Nauvoo legion." He is a coarse, plebeian
person in aspect, and his countenance exhibits a curious mixture of the
knave and the clown. His hands are large and fat, and on one of his
fingers he wears a massive gold ring, upon which I saw an inscription.
His dress was of coarse country manufacture, and his white hat was
enveloped by a piece of black crape as a sign of mourning for his
deceased brother, Don Carlos Smith, the late editor of the "Times and
Seasons." His age is about thirty-five. I had not an opportunity of
observing his eyes, as he appears deficient in that open,
straightforward look which characterizes an honest man. He led the way
to his house, accompanied by a host of elders, bishops, preachers, and
common Mormons. On entering the house, chairs were provided for the
prophet and myself, while the curious and gaping crowd remained
standing. I handed the book to the prophet, and begged him to explain
its contents. He asked me if I had any idea of its meaning. I replied,
that I believed it to be a Greek Psalter; but that I should like to hear
his opinion. "No," he said; "it ain't Greek at all; except, perhaps, a
few words. What ain't Greek, is Egyptian; and what ain't Egyptian, is
Greek. This book is very valuable. _It is a dictionary of Egyptian
Hieroglyphics._" Pointing to the capital letters at the commencement of
each verse, he said: "Them figures is Egyptian hieroglyphics; and them
which follows, is the interpretation of the hieroglyphics, written in
the reformed Egyptian. Them characters is like the letters that was
engraved on the golden plates." Upon this, the Mormons around began to
congratulate me on the information I was receiving. "There," they said;
"we told you so--we told you that our prophet would give you
satisfaction. None but our prophet can explain these mysteries." The
prophet now turned to me, and said, "this book ain't of no use to you,
you don't understand it." "Oh yes," I replied; "it is of some use; for
if I were in want of money, I could sell it, and obtain, perhaps, enough
to live on for a whole year." "But what will you take for it?" said the
prophet and his elders. "My price," I replied, "is higher than you would
be willing to give." "What price is that?" they eagerly demanded. I
replied, "I will not tell you what price I would take; but if you were
to offer me this moment nine hundred dollars in gold for it, you should
not have it." They then repeated their request that I should lend it to
them until the prophet should have time to translate it, and promised me
the most ample security; but I declined all their proposals. I placed
the book in several envelopes, and as I deliberately tied knot after
knot, the countenances of many among them gradually sunk into an
expression of great despondency. Having exhibited the book to the
prophet, I requested him in return to shew me his papyrus; and to give
me his own explanation, which I had hitherto received only at second
hand. He proceeded with me to his office, accompanied by the multitude.
He produced the glass frames which I had seen on the previous day; but
he did not appear very forward to explain the figures. I pointed to a
particular hieroglyphic, and requested him to expound its meaning. No
answer being returned, I looked up, and behold! the prophet had
disappeared. The Mormons told me that he had just stepped out, and would
probably soon return. I waited some time, but in vain: and at length
descended to the street in front of the store. Here I heard the noise of
wheels, and presently I saw the prophet in his waggon, flourishing his
whip and driving away as fast as two fine horses could draw him. As he
disappeared from view, enveloped in a cloud of dust, I felt that I had
turned over another page in the great book of human nature.
Henry Caswall, "Three Days At Nauvoo" (1842)