David Hyrum Smith, born 17 November 1844, at Nauvoo, Illinois, five months after his father’s death, entered the world in at a time of great suffering for his family. He was fragile in health.  When the bulk of church members left Nauvoo, to go out to the west, in February 1846, Emma chose not to follow. She had crossed the frozen Mississippi River twice, once going west, in 1838, and once coming back into Illinois, in 1839. The memory of bitter winter travel in a wagon was too fresh on her mind. There was no Joseph ‘out there’ for her to go to; and no assurance what lay in that direction but misery.  She determined to stay in Nauvoo where her beloved husband was buried—where she had a home—even if it was only the old Homestead, into which she had moved shortly before baby David was born. She had rented out the Mansion House to take care of economic needs.

            David Hyrum was two in 1846, and that fall enemies threatened the very existence of all those who remained in Nauvoo. On September 10^th cannons were fired and a battle ensued on the hills southeast of town. It is hard to imagine how frightening it must have been for the Smith children, and their mother, hearing the blasts from the cannons.

            Everything was in turmoil. Everyone was hurrying to get away from Nauvoo. Mary Fielding Smith brought her family to the Mansion House to say good-bye to Emma, and Grandmother, Lucy Mack Smith, before they crossed the Mississippi River on a flatboat.  After Mary and her family left, Lucy and Arthur Milliken took Grandmother Smith north, over land, to Knox County.  Mary Smith, widow of Don Carlos, and her children went south, helped to get away by a newspaper man named Pickett. They went to St. Louis and later made their way to California. The parting of these family members must have been heart breaking as they realized they were probably saying good-bye for the last time on this earth. The little children could not understand what was happening. But they could feel the sadness all around them. After all the other families had gone, Emma had to find a way to get her family safely away.

            Threats were made against anyone who helped the Saints who remained in Nauvoo and riverboat captains were warned not to assist anyone to escape. Nevertheless, one captain braved the dangers. He stopped at the landing long enough to take on Emma, her five children, Lorin and Lovina Walker, the housekeeper, and several other persons, along with their baggage. The Toby then steamed up river about six days, arriving at last at Fulton, where the Smiths and company, found housing.  The old children enjoyed themselves but little David must have been bewildered by the strange environment. There they remained until early January. 

            When Emma learned the renter she had engaged to take care of the Mansion House Hotel was packing up her furniture to abscond with it, she hastily took the quickest transportation she could find, a horse and buggy, back to Nauvoo.

            Emma moved her family back into the Mansion House, determined to support herself and family running the place as a hotel. This proved a rather difficult way to make a living for the town of Nauvoo was deserted. However, in due time new citizens moved into the area and there was some business to be had. His mother remarried; Pa Bidamon was a kind man who was gentle with children.

            Little David grew up in the Mansion House. He was everybody’s favorite, surrounded by caring, loving family members.  Spoilt a little, praised a lot, he was undoubtedly given the best educational opportunities available, notwithstanding the family was always in great distress financially. He was quite fond of music, and early developed a talent for drawing pictures, writing poetry, with which he entertained his family and friends.  Later on he earned needed money by drawing sketches for people.

            Young David was precocious, but Emma knew how to deal with him. On one occasion she had set some pudding to cool in the pantry. When it came time for it to be served to the family it was discovered a great deal of it had been eaten. Emma, recognizing at once who the culprit was, did not scold. Instead, she placed the final portion in front of David, insisting he should be the one who should finish it off. It was a punishment well fitted to the crime. Poor David was uncomfortably full before he finished the rest of the pudding.

            When Joseph III decided to accept leadership of the Reorganization, David was sixteen years old.  He soon became engaged in writing verse which he sang at meetings held to rally the LDS membership lingering in the area.  His wonderful tenor voice and his inspirational words thrilled the souls of those who heard him.  He became known as the “Sweet Singer of Israel.”

            He was eventually appointed a counselor in the first presidency to his brother Joseph. He accompanied Joseph III, and Alexander to Utah in 1869. 

            He married Clara Hartshorn,, daughter of William Harrison and Charlotte (Eastman) Hartshorn, at Sandwich, DeKalb County, Illinois, 10 May 1870.  Their son, Elbert Aoriul, was born 8 March 1871, in Nauvoo.

            The couple was very happy, but their good life did not last long. Ill health seemed to dog this young man. A strange malady caused him pain in his side. Alexander took him to California where he hoped the good weather would help him regain his health.  He served an extended mission in the west in 1873, returning to Nauvoo in what has been described as extreme mental confusion. 

            Sadly his mother faced the fact that her precious young son was mentally ill. Although there were many fast and prayers offered in his behalf, many blessings administered he seemed beyond healing. At last, Joseph III faced the need to have him committed to the hospital at Elgin, Illinois. The tragedy of his illness was difficult for everyone in the family to accept.

            His niece wrote of him: “He was a man of considerable talent, his artistic impulses finding expression in drawing, painting, music, and poetry. He composed a large number of hymns which have been widely used throughout the (RLDS) church, as well as poems which have been put in book form. . . .He died 29 August 1904 at Elgin, Illinois, and was buried in Rose Hill Cemetery, Lamoni, Iowa. For a number of years before his death, his brilliant mind had been under a cloud.” (Mary Audentia Smith Anderson, Ancestry and Posterity of Joseph Smith and Emma Hale, p. 582).

            David’s widow, Clara, raised her son, Elbert, who eventually became the presiding patriarch in the RLDS Church.  She died in Independence, Missouri, 9 August 1926, and is buried in Rose Hill Cemetery, Lamoni, beside her husband.

            David Hyrum’s poetry extolled the beauty of nature, the sweetness of life, and the virtue of being engaged in the great ministry of the soul, inspired by faith in Jesus Christ.

His paintings are executed finely, of common scenes such as his favorite people picnicking on the hill above the river, the quiet chamber along the river where he liked to sit and paint, dream and write. He earned a few dollars drawing people during his travels. He left a book called Hesperus, containing his poetry which raged from gentle rhymes to complex philosophy.

            One example bears repeating here since it tends to be his own personal plea for understanding without judgment of his sometimes haunting prose.

                        The Poet’s Song

Do not expect the Poet’s lay
            His inner thought will always tell;
The wind that stirs the rose today,
            Tomorrow may be hushed and still.
The impulse that inspires a son,
            To shape a life will not remain;
They are like flowers that bloom not long,--
            Those songs that ring and fade again.

‘Tis well to change a mournful theme
            Howe’er its sweetness touch the soul;
While too much laughter weak will seem,
            And too much diction spoil the whole.
The rose that widest spreads its heart
            Is rifled by the hungry bee,
Who with his spoil will then depart,--
            The blossom fades upon the tree.

Then do not dream he means each line
            A revelation of himself!
Sing of himself?—conceit sublime!
            You’d lay his book upon the shelf.
The preacher preaches righteousness;
            The actor seeks to woo each light
And shade of feeling, to express
            Our thoughts, and keep himself from sight.

And do not think that he has passed
           Through every scene he pictures forth;
Think of the Poet least and last,
            And take his song for what ‘tis worth.
An universal life he leads;
            He lives in you, and many more;
From every field a flow’rest steals,
            And gleans a gem from every shore.