START FOR THE BATTALION RENDEZVOUS—A JOURNEY OF HARDSHIP—IN THE MORMONS' CAMP ON THE MISSOURI RIVER—FIRST EXPERIENCES IN THE ARMY—BLESSED BY APOSTLES—PROPHETIC ADDRESS BY PRESIDENT BRIGHAM YOUNG—THE BATTALION STARTS ON ITS LONG JOURNEY—DOING CAMP DUTY—HEAVY STORMS AND INSUFFICIENT RATIONS—HARD EXPERIENCES—AT FORT LEAVENWORTH—MEXICAN MULES AS A CURE FOR EGOTISM—COLONEL ALLEN TAKEN ILL—ON THE SANTA FE ROAD—SUFFERING FROM THIRST—SICKNESS AMONG THE TROOPS—DR. G.B. SANDERSON, A TYRANNICAL QUACK—ARMY MERCHANTS—ORDER OF MARCHING.
IT was about one o'clock in the afternoon of July 9 when we bade our friends an affectionate farewell, and started on what we understood to be a journey of one hundred and thirty-eight miles, to join the army of the United States at our country's call. We had provisions enough put up to last us on our trip. The night previous our old clothes had received the necessary repairs. Our preparations were hasty and incomplete, for we had been told (by an unauthorized person, as we afterwards learned) that when we got to Sarpy's Point, on the Missouri River, we would draw uniforms, clothing, blankets, and rations, and would have to cast aside our old clothes.
Our initial trip was begun without a blanket to wrap ourselves in, as we thought we could find shelter in the camps along the line of march. But in this we were mistaken, for everybody seemed to have all they could do to shelter their own. The first night we camped on the bank of a small stream, where we fell in with twelve or fifteen other volunteers who had not so much as a bit of bread, but plenty of assurance in asking for what others had. We divided with them, then scraped what leaves we could and laid down thereon, with a chunk of wood for our pillow. Next morning we divided our last morsel of food with what we learned later were the very roughest element of the battalion.
For five days we journeyed, much of the time in heavy rain and deep mud, sleeping on the wet ground without blankets or other kind of bedding, and living on elm bark and occasionally a very small ration of buttermilk handed to us by humane sisters as we passed their tents. We thought our experience was pretty rough, but I do not remember that I heard murmuring from the lips of anyone, for we felt that we were in the service of God and our country.
When we reached the Missouri River we found that some four hundred men had rendezvoused there. In the camps of the Latter-day Saints, close by, there were some thousands of men, women and children; a brush bowery had been erected, where the people met for religious worship. We soon found friends who welcomed us to camp, and we were invited to a social dance and farewell party. We had excellent music, the best dinner that the country could afford, and, above all, a spirit of brotherly love and union that I have never seen surpassed. With all on the altar of sacrifice for God and His kingdom and for our country, it seemed that everything and everybody looked to the accomplishment of one grand, common cause, not a dissenting voice being heard from anyone.
July 16, 1846, we were mustered into the service of the United States, and, under command of Col. James Allen, marched down the bluffs to the Missouri bottoms, where we camped in a cottonwood grove. Some flour and other provisions were issued to us, and we peeled the bark off a tree for a bread tray or kneading trough. Some rolled their dough around sticks and stuck or held it before the fire, and others baked their bread in the ashes; for we had not yet drawn any camp equipage. We received one blanket apiece, and had that charged up, the amount to be taken out of our pay.
I am not writing a history of the Mormon Battalion, but am relating my individual experiences in that detachment of the United States army, as I recollect them; so it will not be expected of me to tell much of what others saw, or to narrate events as they remember them, but as they impressed themselves upon my mind at the time of occurrence.
Just before our last farewell to friends at the Missouri River, and preparatory to taking up our line of march, we were formed into a hollow square, and President Brigham Young, with Heber C. Kimball and others of the Apostles, came to our camp, rode into the square, and gave us parting blessings and instructions. The words of President Young, as they fastened themselves upon my memory, were in substance as follows: "Now, brethren, you are going as soldiers at your country's call. You will travel in a foreign land, in an enemy's country; and if you will live your religion, obey your officers, attend to your prayers, and as you travel in an enemy's land, hold sacred the property of the people, never taking anything that does not belong to you only in case of starvation; though you may be traveling in an enemy's country, do not disturb fruit orchards or chicken coops or beehives, do not take anything but what you pay for—although it is customary for soldiers to plunder their enemies in time of war, it is wrong—always spare life when possible; if you obey this counsel, attending to your prayers to the Lord, I promise you in the name of the Lord God of Israel that not one soul of you shall fall by the hands of the enemy. You will pass over battlefields; battles will be fought in your front and in your rear, on your right hand and on your left, and your enemies shall flee before you. Your names shall be held in honorable remembrance to the latest generation."
Heber C. Kimball and other prominent men of the Church confirmed what President Young had said, and all bade us an affectionate farewell, with "God bless you and spare your lives."
Thus we set out in good cheer on our journey of more than two thousand miles in a section of the continent wholly unknown to us.
In the month of July, from about the 20th, we passed down through the towns and villages along the river, for two hundred miles, to Fort Leavenworth. The heat was excessive, and the roads dusty, when we started out. A great part of the way we had only a small ration of food, for it did not seem to be in the country, and we suffered much from want. We took regular turns in standing guard around the camp and in herding the stock. Heavy rains came on, and for several days we pressed forward amid such terrible storms as I never had experienced before. With less than half rations, and that badly or insufficiently cooked, from lack of proper utensils and experience, and having to lie on the ground without any bedding save one blanket each, it is a wonder the entire camp were not down sick instead of a few. But with all this hardship there were no desertions and few complaints. Everything seemed to move harmoniously among the men.
The command crossed the river at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and soon afterwards we drew a tent to each mess of six men. This afforded us great relief at nights, protecting us from the dews and rain; but in the daytime the whiteness of the tents seemed to intensify the heat so that there was no comfort in them. While at Fort Leavenworth we washed our old clothing and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. Soon we drew camp equipage and rations from the government. We got flintlock muskets, and accoutrements consisting of bayonets, cartridge-boxes, straps and belts, canteens, haversacks, etc., also a knapsack each. We drew our first pay, forty-two dollars each, sent part of it to our families, and fitted ourselves out with new clothes and shoes.
With all the paraphernalia of soldiers, we seemed so burdened as to be able neither to run nor to fight. Then to be obliged to travel all day under a broiling sun, or in driving rain or fierce winds, across sandy deserts and over trackless mountains, going sometimes sixty to ninety miles without water, in an enemy's country—kind reader, you may picture such scenes in your imagination, but it is impossible for you to realize the conditions except by actual experience therein. It is equally impossible for me to find language to describe fitly the situation at that time at the United States military post of Fort Leavenworth.
The place being an outfitting station for United States forces in the war with Mexico, all was bustle and activity; steamboats were unloading material, and teams filled the streets; many of the new recruits were very rough indeed, and drinking and fighting seemed to be their pastime; myself and companions were amazed and shocked at the profane and vulgar language and vile actions that we were compelled to listen to and witness; with all else, squads of soldiers were being drilled, the bugle sound was frequent, as were also the beating of the drum and the playing of the fife; everywhere the men were preparing for victory or death, and many were so reckless they did not seem to care which came.
As our battalion was preparing quietly for the great march before us, a band of very small Mexican mules was brought in to be used as teams in our transportation department. The animals were unaccustomed to harness, and very wild, so there was a detail of men from each company assigned to do the harnessing. It fell to my lot to engage in the work, and great was my surprise to see one of those little mules dragging three to five men about the yards. I thought I was able to handle one of the little long-eared animals myself, but had the conceit taken out of me in quick order by having my hands burned with the rope, as I was jerked and dragged about in fertilizer in the yards—there being an abundance there. But we accomplished our work, with some sport and considerable cost to our patience and muscular energy.
From the 10th to the 15th of August, companies A, B, and C moved out on the Santa Fe road, and in two or three days were followed by companies D and E. Our esteemed colonel, James Allen, having been taken ill, ordered Captain Jefferson Hunt of company A to take command until the colonel should recover and settle up the business of outfitting the battalion.
Our route lay over rolling hills, through some timbered country and some prairie. The weather was warm, and there was much suffering, especially from lack of drinking water, this being scarce. The sick felt the hardship particularly, and there was quite a number down with chills and fever; such water as was obtainable was of poor quality, warm and unhealthy, and added to the number of the sick.
Each company had a large wagon and three or four yoke of oxen to haul the tents and camp equipage, and one issue of rations, I think it was for one week. The government had assigned a doctor to our command, George B. Sanderson of Platte County, Missouri. He proved to be so cruel and tyrannical as to incur the ill-will of every man in the command. He had immediate charge of the hospital wagons, and no matter how ill a man was, he was not allowed to ride in the company's wagon until he had reported to this cruel quack, who had to be honored with the title of physician and surgeon. With his permission a man was allowed to crawl into his company's wagon, which was filled nearly to the bows with tents and other camp equipage. Sometimes there would be five or six crowded in together, some shaking with ague and others burning with fever. Our company wagon was called the Gray Eagle; John Gilbert was the teamster, and did all in his power to favor those of his comrades who deserved it.
Besides the company and hospital wagons, there were sutlers' or merchants' wagons—speculators that are permitted to follow the army for what they can make off the troops. They carry in stock such things as they know from experience the soldier most needs, and many luxuries; they had almost everything to entice the famishing soldier, who had to stand guard over them and their stores. Many times, through hardships, we seemed compelled to patronize them. Our suffering was their opportunity, and they were not slow to take advantage of it. Their prices were enormous, and their bills never failed to reach the paymaster by each payday; after these were paid, the soldier came in for the balance, if there was any. Some were very unfortunate through sickness, and had to patronize the sutler, or merchant; others were unwise in their purchases; and thus the eight dollars a month wages often was spent before it was earned.
Our commissary and ammunition department included over a hundred wagons; the three or four pieces of artillery followed close in our rear, in charge of a wagonmaster and assistants.
The usual order of marching, as I remember it, was: an advance guard; then the colonel and his staff; next came the body of the command; then a rearguard, the baggage and hospital wagons, etc. Only on special occasions was the main body of the battalion permitted to march at will, as long as it remained between the front and rear guards. When the country was specially rough, and roads had to be made, the road hands, or, in military language, the sappers and miners, were allowed extra rations, and had to start out very early with the advance guard.