“I haven’t swept out the cupboard. The mattresses should be turned. I still need to—” She stopped, and inexplicably started to cry.
Savannah seemed not too surprised. “It’s all right, Mama. We don’t have to do everything. Sister Starr said she would clean up things. After all, we’re giving her the house for nothing.”
Caroline sniffed back the tears, angry with herself for being so foolish. “I know, but I can’t leave a filthy house.”
Savannah took her by the arm. “It’s not filthy. We cleaned it all yesterday.” She peered up at her. “Do you not want to leave, Mama?”
Caroline lifted the hem of her apron and wiped at her eyes. “That’s not it. I’m excited to go. I can hardly wait to leave. It’s just that—” She looked around, feeling the tears threatening again.
“You’re just tired, Mama.” Savannah came over to touch her arm. “Livvy has kept you up for three nights. That’s all it is.”
Caroline had to smile in spite of herself. It was as if she were hearing herself speak. “Yes,” she said, cheered just by having Savannah here beside her. “I’m sure that’s part of it.” Livvy, now three, had started in with what Caroline was afraid was going to be the measles a week ago. It had turned out to be only a high fever and cough, but it left her with a serious case of crankiness. She had kept the family up three different nights now with her fitful sleeping. “Is Charles watching her?” Caroline asked.
“Actually, she fell asleep while Papa and I were packing in the tools. One minute she was awake, then when we looked again she was curled up in a ball, sound asleep.”
That didn’t seem fair, thought Caroline. Sleep sounded so good right now.
“Caroline?” It was Joshua’s voice from outside.
“I think Papa’s ready, Mama,” Savannah said, moving toward the door. She leaned out. “Coming, Papa.” Then she went back and took her mother’s hand. “Let’s just go, Mama.”
“I . . .” She looked around one last time. “Yes,” she said, suddenly determined. “Let’s just go.”
Outside, the five Steed wagons took up most of the block, and the family swarmed around them like ants at a sugar-water picnic. As she and Savannah came out of the hut and Savannah pulled the door shut, Joshua glanced up at his wife. He stopped what he was doing, looked at her more closely, then came over as she reached the wagon. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“I am now,” she said brightly. “I was just having a few final misgivings, I think.”
He nodded gravely. “Me too.” He turned and surveyed the family. “When I see how many of us there are, I’ve got all kinds of misgivings.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “There are only twenty-nine of us to worry about.”
He choked a little on that. “I know, but there are only three men. Six women, twenty children, and only three men. You don’t think that’s a little overwhelming?”
It was just what Caroline needed. She forgot her own concerns, touched by Joshua’s worry. “Well, you can’t count Emily and Rachel or the four oldest boys as children, Joshua. They’re old enough to be of great help.”
He nodded. That was surely true. Emily and Rachel, both fifteen now—or soon to be in Emily’s case—were mature young women. In addition to taking a major role in caring for the children, they were excellent cooks and for the past three weeks had been practicing cooking over an open fire in the yard behind Jessica’s house. Young Carl, the oldest of the male cousins who were with the family now, was also fifteen; and in exactly four months from today Jessica’s Luke would turn fifteen as well. Each of these would be treated as men in the coming months.
They had apportioned out their manpower carefully. Carl would drive the wagon with his own family, while his son Carl drove Lydia and her children. Luke would drive Jenny and her two children and Mary Ann. Solomon and Joshua would both have their own families. Jessica’s Mark and Melissa’s David, both nearly thirteen, had responsibility for the livestock and getting firewood each night. The younger children each had their own chores as well. Caroline was right. They would do just fine.
Joshua moved over to where his mother stood beside Jenny, holding two-year-old Emmeline, Matthew’s youngest, by the hand. “Are you ready, Mother?”
“More than ready, Joshua.”
“Shall we call everyone together and have a prayer before we begin?”
Mary Ann looked at him in surprise. “You don’t have to ask me, Joshua. You’re the patriarch of the clan now, and I don’t mean just in age. We are all looking to you to lead us.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he said slowly.
“That’s why you’ll be wonderful.” She smiled up at him. “Humility is nice in a patriarch.”
He laughed, then bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “You really are something, aren’t you?”
To his surprise, her eyes were suddenly glistening. “I am, Joshua. And do you know why?” She flung her arms out to include all of the family. “Because of this. It’s my family that really makes me something. And to have you stand at the head, in place of your father”—her voice broke—“doing what he would be doing if he were here, makes me more proud than I can put into words.”
He put his arms around her and held her tightly. “Thank you, Mama,” he whispered.
Then, clearing his throat, he stepped back. “Can I have your attention?”
Parents turned and then began shushing their children. He waved them forward. “Let’s all gather around Grandma Steed.”
With a little thrill of excitement running through the group, they quickly started to come in closer. As they waited for the others, Caleb, who was Carl and Melissa’s third child and now about eleven, touched Joshua’s arm. “Why do we have to go to the Elkhorn to meet everyone, Uncle Joshua? Why can’t we just meet here?”
Savannah, who was Caleb’s age, answered for her father. “Because a city isn’t a good place for a wagon train to gather, Caleb. You need water and lots of grass and room for the wagons.”
“That’s right,” Joshua confirmed. “There are going to be a lot of wagons coming together, Caleb. We need a big place to collect them.”
“What’s the Elkhorn?” Betsy Jo, Jenny’s five-year-old, asked.
“That’s a river,” Sarah Rogers said, proud to have the answer. She was eight and Melissa’s oldest daughter.
“How far is it, Uncle Joshua?” Jenny said in a little girl’s voice.
The children giggled wildly at that. Jenny smiled down on them. Of all the aunts, she was the favorite, for she was always playing children’s games with them.
“About twenty miles, little Jenny,” Joshua answered back in a squeaky voice. “That’s about one day’s ride from here.”
The children were delighted and squealed with laughter. By then, they had all gathered around, and Joshua sobered. “Is everyone ready?” he asked.
One by one they nodded their heads.
He took a deep breath. “Then let’s have a prayer and we shall depart.” He looked around and his eyes fell on Carl and Melissa. “Melissa, will you say our family prayer for us?”
Surprised, but pleased, she nodded.
Joshua quickly went on. “Before you do, however, I just want to say one word.”
As everyone quieted, he kept looking at the two of them. “For all of us, I want Carl and Melissa to know how happy we are that they are with us here today.”
“Hear! Hear!” Solomon called out.
“Amen,” Lydia exclaimed.
“We are so pleased that we are not leaving you behind,” Joshua finished.
Melissa was taken aback and smiled shyly. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Carl said as well. “It only took three broken ribs and a couple of knocks on the skull to get Melissa to change her mind about coming—” He stopped as the family hooted him down on that; then he got more serious. “It only took three broken ribs and a couple of knocks on the head for me to get to this point,” he said again, “but I want you all to know, this is where we ought to be.” He turned to Melissa and took her hand. “I know that now.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes filling as she looked at him.
“I know someone who was once that hardheaded and stubborn too,” Joshua said.
“What do you mean,
once was?
” Caroline asked sweetly.
Both children and adults clapped and cheered at that. Joshua just laughed, then turned to his mother. “Is there anything you want to say, Mama, before Melissa prays?”
Mary Ann nodded and stepped forward. She couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes directly, for the affection there would have brought the tears again. So she stared out at the western sky and spoke softly. “Do you remember what I said a while back? about no more partings?”
Several nodded.
“Well, that time has finally come. We start this morning on the journey that will bring all of us back together. We leave many friends behind today in Winter Quarters. They are good friends and we shall miss them, but our place is not here any longer. Our family is waiting for us out there somewhere. So let there be no tears on this day. Let there be only smiles of joy, for the time for reunion has come.”
“Amen,” Joshua said quietly. Then he motioned to Melissa. As she stepped forward, the men took off their hats, and all bowed their heads.
Chapter Notes
All of the journals speak about the difficulty the Pioneer Company had getting across the North Platte River at the last crossing. At the very time they were struggling to find a way to take their wagons across, the various families and groups that would come to be called the “Big Company” were preparing to depart Winter Quarters and follow in the footsteps of the Pioneer Company.
Eventually the Big Company would consist of nine different companies made up of about five hundred seventy-five wagons and over fifteen hundred people. The first of these groups left Winter Quarters around the fourteenth of June and assembled at the Elkhorn River, about twenty miles to the west, before forming into wagon companies and starting the trek west, the first company leaving on the eighteenth.
Chapter 42
By the fifteenth of June, their fourth day at the last crossing of the North Platte River, the Pioneer Company still had only half of their wagons on the north side of the river. The men were exhausted, many of them having spent long hours up to their armpits in the icy water. The river was coming down from the heights of the mountains and was still bitterly cold. So after four days of backbreaking work, they had half their number across, several wagons had sustained minor damage, Howard Egan had a badly bruised leg, and one of Robert Crow’s horses had got tangled in a lariat and drowned while swimming across.
All of that was on Matthew Steed’s mind as he walked toward Brigham Young’s tent. At the rate they were getting the wagons across, they could be here for several more days. Reaching the tent, Matthew hesitated for a moment, then rapped lightly on the pole.
“Come in.”
He pulled back the flap and stepped inside, where Brigham, George A. Smith, Willard Richards, and Heber C. Kimball were seated. Brigham stood immediately and came to him. “Matthew, thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to be of service,” he answered. He suspected that this might have something to do with the river crossing. Word in the camp was that Howard Egan had the assignment to make a much larger raft.
“Sit down, Matthew.” The President pointed to a stool, then sat down himself. As was his style, he jumped in without preamble. “We have an assignment for you, Matthew.”
“All right.”
“I’m sending Howard to cut some bigger trees.”
“I heard that,” Matthew said. “Would you like me to go with him?”
“Yes. We’re going to build a larger ferry.”
Matthew’s eyes widened a little.
“Another company of emigrants came by today and paid us to take them across the river.”
“I saw that. That’s good. We can use all the flour we can get.”
“That’s what started me to thinking,” Brigham said, musing now. “This crossing is a terrible thing at high water. And yet there’s no way around it. Everyone has to do it. You’ve seen what it takes out of both man and beast.”
“That I have,” Matthew agreed.
“We’re sending a second group upriver to find timber good enough to make some planking. With that and what we already have, we can make a substantial ferry, something large enough to take two wagons across or a wagon with its team.”
“Very good,” Matthew agreed.
“We’ve got a lot of people coming behind us,” Heber said now. “Five or six hundred wagons in all likelihood. We’ve got to be thinking about them as well.”
Matthew had already discussed that with Nathan and Derek. The thought of having Joshua and Solomon make that crossing with all the women and children was pretty sobering.
Finally, Brigham smiled. “How would you like to be the first to see your family again?”
Totally taken aback, Matthew leaned forward. “You want me to go back?”
They all laughed. “No, nothing quite that dramatic,” Heber smiled.
“We’re going to leave a group of men here to run a ferry service across the river,” Brigham came in again, this time completely serious. “At least through the high-water season. You’ve heard the reports. They say there are a thousand wagons between here and Fort Laramie and who knows how many more behind them on the Oregon Trail. Even if half of those used our service, the income would be a rich blessing to our people. And our own following companies are not only going to need to get across the river; by the time they reach here they’ll need their supplies replenished too. Imagine what a blessing it will be to them to get here and find not only that we have our own ferry but that foodstuffs are available as well.”
Matthew was excited. It was a brilliant solution to several problems all at the same time. “And you’d like me to stay?”
Brigham nodded slowly. “Yes. We’ve asked Thomas Grover to serve as captain.”
Heber chuckled and Brigham shot him a warning look. It only made Heber laugh out loud. Everyone in the camp knew about the confrontation between Brigham Young and Thomas Grover. Grover was an experienced boatman, and when they had started work on one of the smaller rafts, Grover had told Brigham that he was going about it all wrong. Brigham was a highly skilled carpenter in his own right and didn’t take the unsolicited advice favorably. Grover backed down a little, muttering, just loud enough for the President to hear, something like, “I’ve forgotten more about water than you’ll ever know.”