He stopped for a moment. Then, nodding as if he were agreeing with his own thoughts, he went on. “Suppose we were admitted into the Union as a state, once we reach our destination. If the government did not call upon us then for service, would we not feel ourselves neglected? I say yes, we would. So let the Mormons be the first to set their feet on the soil of California. Let us answer this call for men as faithful citizens.”
He turned and looked for a moment at the army officers, then back at the group of Saints. “I want you to think for a moment of the advantages that shall accrue to us in benefit for our obedience. Many of you know that some time ago I sent Brother Jesse Little to Washington to petition the United States to help us move west. We offered to build a series of forts and maintain them for the government. That has not come to pass. But Brother Little met with President Polk and put our case before him. I’m sure this opportunity to enlist men in the army is the result of his labors.
“Do you understand what that means for us? We shall send some five hundred men to the West at the expense of the United States government. Perhaps they shall even reach our final destination before we do. They will be given food and clothing and weapons, all of which they shall be able to keep as their own once their service is done. We are nearly destitute, my brothers and sisters, as you well know. And we have many more still coming, many with nothing but what they wear on their backs and feet.
“These five hundred men will receive army pay for their service. Seven dollars a month. Multiply that by five hundred and then multiply that by twelve months and you have a substantial sum of cash, cash which we desperately need to help us prepare for the winter and to see our way west. The army has agreed to send a goodly portion of those wages back to us in advance. We shall ask the battalion members to contribute much of their pay to care for their families who are left behind and also to help the Church care for our people.
“Now, there is one more thing which comes as a great advantage to us. Captain Allen has agreed to give our people permission to stay on Indian lands until we can move on to the West. Brothers and sisters, open your eyes and your hearts to what the Lord has done for us here. This is the first offer we have ever had from the government which will benefit us at the same time that we offer our services to them.”
Nathan looked around. People were nodding everywhere. The anger was gone. Many seemed a little sheepish, as he himself was, that they had not seen beyond their own emotional reaction to this new development.
“My dearly beloved fellow Saints,” Brigham went on, his voice softer now, “I propose that we raise those five hundred volunteers and muster them into service. If you are one of those who is willing to volunteer, I promise you that your families will be brought forward with the rest of us when it is time for us to move on. They will not be neglected in your absence. I will feed them myself, so long as my family and I have anything to eat.”
He stopped, and Heber C. Kimball got up instantly to stand beside him. “Brethren, I move that five hundred men be raised immediately for service in the United States Army for the war against Mexico.”
“Second that motion,” Willard Richards cried from behind him.
“All in favor.” Heber’s fierce dark eyes scanned the congregation. Then finally he turned back to President Young, smiling in satisfaction. “The voting has been unanimous, President. I believe we can begin recruiting immediately.”
By that evening the reality of the call for five hundred of their best men had finally settled in on the camps that lined the eastern bluffs of the Missouri River and the bottoms below. It was no longer a question of acceptance. There were still a few grumblers here and there, but Brigham’s stirring speech that afternoon had convinced the majority that this was not only the Lord’s will but also part of his plan for his people.
Around the campfires and supper tables, the talk was subdued and solemn. Families assessed what this new development meant for them. Who would volunteer? How would they get on without husbands and fathers? What did this mean for the future? Would they have to fight? They were somber questions and carried no easy answers.
For the Steeds, the main question of who would volunteer was easier. In their previous family council they had determined who would go in the vanguard company. Now they simply transferred that decision to who would go with the army. As Brigham came down from the stand and began signing up volunteers, the men of the Steed family got into line. Ten minutes later Nathan, Joshua, and Matthew had added their names to the list. Derek would stay behind with Solomon, once he and Jessica arrived from Mount Pisgah.
Now, around the campfire, they talked quietly about what this would mean. Lydia and Caroline and Jenny were especially quiet. They did not question the decision, but its impact was now all too terribly real. The vanguard company was bad enough, but now there was the possibility of war as well.
During a lull, Jenny raised her head. “I’m going to volunteer as a laundress and go with you.”
Matthew jerked up as if he had been slapped. “What?”
“The letter said that each company could have four laundresses. I will be one of them.”
“You’re not serious!” Matthew’s face had actually paled at the thought.
“I am most serious, Matthew. If you have to go, then the children and I shall go with you.”
Mary Ann watched her youngest and his wife stare at each other—he in shock, she in determination.
“The letter also said that it will be a march of a thousand miles, Jenny,” Matthew pointed out. “Betsy Jo is only four and little Emmeline is but fifteen months.”
Her head was up and there was a touch of fire in her green Irish eyes. “And how far will I have to march with my children next spring? A thousand miles? It’s not like this is our permanent home, remember. If I have to go a thousand miles one way or the other, I’ll choose going with you.”
“She’s right, Matthew,” Rebecca spoke up. “Let her go with you.”
Now it was Derek’s turn to be shocked. “Rebecca, this is between Matthew and Jenny.”
She tossed her head, the dark hair bouncing. “No, this is a family council. We all have a right to say what we think.”
“That’s right,” Nathan said. He too was still reeling a little from Jenny’s proposal, but Rebecca was correct in calling for her voice to be heard.
Matthew was glaring at Rebecca. She didn’t flinch. “Why not, Matthew? Why shouldn’t Jenny go with you?”
He was shaking his head, his mouth set. “Because this is going to be a very difficult march. Going with an army is not the same as traveling with a wagon company.”
“Then why do they allow laundresses to go?” Jenny shot back.
“I . . .” He shook his head again, at a loss for an answer to that. “No, Jenny. Just get it out of your head. It is not—” He stopped again, but this time it wasn’t because he didn’t know what to say. A figure had stepped quietly into the edge of the firelight, just behind Nathan and his mother. Matthew leaned forward, gaping. “Jessica?”
Luke’s head snapped up; then his mouth dropped open. “Mama?”
Now a second figure joined the first and they both came into the full light. It was Solomon and Jessica Garrett, looking tired but smiling broadly. There were gasps, then cries of joy. Rachel shot to her feet. “Mama! Papa!”
Jessica opened her arms, and her daughter flew around the fire and threw herself into them. Luke came right behind her, nearly knocking them both down as he joined his sister.
Now they were all up and swarming around the new arrivals. Joshua grabbed Solomon’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Solomon, what a surprise! When did you get here?”
Jessica let go of her children and stepped forward to face Joshua. “And what is this we hear about you?” she said, her voice suddenly soft with emotion. “Can it really be?”
Embarrassed, Joshua dropped his head. “It’s true. Can you believe it?”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Yes, I can.”
Suddenly he swept her up and pulled her close to him. “Oh, Jessie, if only I could have done this years ago. I hurt you so much.”
She held him tightly in return, tears glistening in her eyes. “It has all worked out for the best, Joshua, and we are so happy for you and Caroline. So happy.”
“Thank you.”
As they parted again, Nathan clapped Solomon on the shoulder. “Where’s your wagon?”
“About a mile from here. We weren’t sure where you were.”
“Then let’s go get it,” Derek exclaimed. “There are going to be some very happy cousins tonight.”
“Oh, by the way,” Solomon remembered, “I have a message for you, Nathan. I brought some letters for President Young. When I delivered them, he asked me to tell you that he’d like to see you first thing in the morning.”
Again?
Nathan’s face showed his surprise. But then he nodded. “All right.”
“They’re going to start ferrying across the river in the morning.”
He nodded again, still puzzled. “I’ll go down first thing.”
Chapter Notes
When Captain Allen arrived in Mount Pisgah on 26 June with the request for volunteers, Wilford Woodruff sent him on to Council Bluffs. He also sent Thomas Grover ahead with word of what was happening. Thus when Allen arrived at the bluffs on 30 June, Brigham Young was already aware of what was happening and had met in council with the Twelve and decided it was best to accept the invitation. He met with the army officers at ten o’clock the next morning and immediately called for a meeting of the brethren to formally support the initiative.
Some of the reasons given here by Brigham Young for accepting the invitation for volunteers were given that day. Other reasons, expounded later, are also given here to help readers understand why President Young so quickly saw the advantage to the Saints in the U.S. president’s offer. Immediately after the meeting, President Young said, he “walked out as recruiting Sergeant” and “took several names as volunteers.” (See
MHBY,
pp. 202–6; Larry C. Porter, “Interrupted Exodus: Enlisting the Mormon Battalion as Iowa Volunteers,” in Susan Easton Black and William G. Hartley, eds.,
The Iowa Mormon Trail: Legacy of Faith and Courage
[Orem, Utah: Helix Publishing, 1997], pp. 141–42.)
Chapter 8
Nathan left before breakfast, taking one of the horses down the bluffs. He reached the ferry site a little before half past seven. Wagons were already lined up for several hundred yards along the road, and he searched them carefully as he passed to see if President Young was in the line. He was not.
When he reached the ferry he reined in for a moment to watch. The flat-bottomed ferryboat was already halfway across the river, carrying its load of two wagons and teams and the families to whom they belonged. The spot they had chosen was not the narrowest spot on the swift-moving river, but the ground on both sides was mostly level and provided a staging ground for those waiting to load and those on the other side who were unloading. Ramps had been dug on both banks to allow the wagons to drive on and off the ferry easily. A heavy rope, made in their own ropewalk a few days before, angled across to the opposite landing located some distance downstream. This allowed the current to help move the loads across. Another rope angled across upstream. Nathan didn’t have to ask what that was for. Even unloaded, the ferry was too heavy to buck the current and come back the same way it had gone across. So once it was unloaded, oxen would haul the flat-bottomed boat upstream to a point about a hundred yards above where he now sat. Launching it from there allowed the current to help carry the ferry back to its original launch site.
As he watched, the ferry bulled its way, with the help of several men, into the opposite bank, and immediately the front end was lowered and the wagons began to roll off. It was satisfying to see it working, and once again Nathan was amazed at Brigham’s foresight and practicality. He looked around and saw Bishop George Miller, who had been put in charge of constructing a ferry and getting it operating. He leaned forward on his horse. “Bishop Miller.”
The bishop was peering intently across the river, watching the unloading activities on the other side. He turned, and then, recognizing Nathan, waved.
“Has President Young gone across yet?”
There was a shake of his head. “No. We’ve taken some of his wagons across, but he’s still at his camp.”
“And where is that? I’m requested to have a meeting with him this morning.”
Miller pointed toward a stand of cottonwoods a few rods away. “He’s camped just beyond that grove,” he called.
Nathan waved and reined his horse around.
“Thank you for coming. I was pleased to learn that Solomon and Jessica have returned.”
“Yes. It was a pleasant surprise to see them.”
“Are they settled in at your camp, then?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I know that you have much to do, so I appreciate your taking time to come see me this morning. I’m going to try to get my family across the river; then we’ve decided that Brother Heber, Brother Willard, and myself are going to go back to Mount Pisgah to talk with the Saints about volunteering for the battalion.”
“Oh?” Now, that said something about how President Young felt about this latest opportunity. Or, he corrected himself, it may be that it said something about how well President Young understood the misgivings this call had created among the Latter-day Saints. “Is there anything I can do to help, President?”
He motioned to a stool. Then, as Nathan sank down onto it, Brigham leaned back, pulling at his lip thoughtfully. Finally, he leaned forward again. “I appreciate you and the others being among the first to volunteer yesterday, Nathan.”
He shrugged and explained how they had already decided in a family council who would go west. “That made it easy,” he concluded.
“I see.” Again he was lost in thought for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. “Nathan?”
“Yes, Brother Brigham?”
“In most cases I’m not inclined to interfere with an individual’s decision or with that of a family.” He frowned, his brows furrowing deeply. “But . . .”