Narrative of the March of Co. A, Engineers from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, to Fort Bridger, Utah, and Return Part 1

Narrative of the March of Co. A, Engineers from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, to Fort Bridger, Utah, and Return.

by William P. Seville.

Introductory Note

_By_ GILBERT THOMPSON

In the spring of 1858, when the Government met with opposition from the Mormon community, in relation to the appointment of Mr. c.u.mmings as Governor of the Territory, and Brigham Young's corps of Danites was being recruited and drilled for active service, it was decided that a military force should be sent to the seat of the trouble to maintain the National authority. The expedition numbered several thousand men--cavalry, artillery, and infantry.

As the gra.s.s along what was known as the "Emigrant Route" had been almost entirely consumed by the numerous mule and ox-trains which had pa.s.sed over the Plains during the preceding year, it was found necessary to make a new road, from the Platte River to the Green, over which the Army could march.

To perform this duty with sufficient speed to avoid delaying the advancing columns, sixty-four selected men, under First Lieut. James C.

Duane and Second Lieut. Edward P. Alexander, were taken from Company A, United States Engineers, then stationed at the Military Academy at West Point, N.Y. Leaving a detachment at West Point, the Company started on this service March 31st, 1858, going by rail and steamboat as far as Fort Leavenworth, Kans. Here it remained in barracks until fully equipped to encounter the vicissitudes of the Western Plains. The march to Utah, proper, was begun the 6th of May, 1858.

Narrative of the March

_May 6_ (Thursday). With bright antic.i.p.ations of beholding many a novel and interesting scene, and with high expectations of enjoying the new and eventful life which was about to open before us, we left Fort Leavenworth behind on the 6th day of May, 1858. Before us lay a long march--twelve hundred miles, we were told--across a wild, and, except for the first two hundred miles, a desert and uninhabited country.

Eight wagons, each drawn by six st.u.r.dy mules, drove up in front of our quarters, and, after receiving their baggage, started for the first camping ground at Salt Creek, a distance of about four miles. The wagons were accompanied by a detachment to serve as escort and to pitch the tents.

The remainder of the Company followed an hour or two later, in heavy marching order. Except for the observance of discipline, and the order of our marching, no one would have supposed us to be an organized portion of the United States Army. We each wore a white felt hat and a gray or blue woolen blouse, or hunting s.h.i.+rt. There were belt, bayonet, haversack, canteen, pistol, a large clasp knife--all surmounted by knapsack and rifle. To we Eastern soldiers this tout ensemble seemed ludicrous enough.

We pitched our first camp, manifesting considerable delicacy about taking our meals _al fresco_, and being very particular to select the driest and softest spots on which to make our beds.

_May 7_ (Friday). Reveille was at an early hour. We stowed our c.u.mbrous knapsacks with the rest of the baggage in the wagons, and then set out on our march with lighter bodies and gayer hearts. The day's journey was only sixteen miles, but the roads were in poor condition from the breaking up of winter, and to us, unaccustomed to continuous marching, it seemed an endless distance. Several times during the day we were obliged to turn ourselves into mules, and a.s.sist in pulling the wagons out of mud holes. The night's camp was at Oak Grove.

_May 8_ (Sat.u.r.day). The next day we went as far as Ravine Spring, six miles. We made but a short march, owing to the miserable condition of the roads.

_May 9_ (Sunday). On the 9th, although Sunday, we made a long march, as we expected to overtake our provision train, which was some distance in advance of us. We failed in the undertaking, however, although marching twenty-one miles.

Where we were encamped, that night, on the Second Branch of Gra.s.shopper Creek, we could distinctly hear the hungry howl of the prairie wolf, a new and amusing music to us.

_May 10_ (Monday). The first day of the new week, Monday, the 10th, we trudged our weary way over twelve and three-quarter miles of muddy, dreary, rolling prairie, and encamped on Walnut Creek. Here we discovered the commissary train (of which we have been in search), consisting of about a hundred and forty wagons.

_May 11_ (Tuesday). Tuesday, the 11th, we remained at Walnut Creek, in order to better the crossing of the creek and to consolidate the whole command. Four companies of the Sixth Infantry (Companies G, A, D, and K) came up in the morning, and the men looked on while we cut away the banks of the stream and prepared brush to throw into the soft places.

In the afternoon, all crossed the creek and camped together on the far side.

_May 12_ (Wednesday). We marched sixteen miles, camping four miles beyond Oak Point. This was the first day the whole command marched together, and it was plainly evident that the crack marching regiment was making strong efforts to fill our sick list by fast marching. We attributed the attempt to outmarch us to their ignorance of the spirit and personnel that made up Co. A, Engineers.

_May 13_ (Thursday). We went six miles beyond the Fourth Branch of Gra.s.shopper Creek, a distance of fifteen miles. We had tattoo a little after sunset, in order to allow a long rest to those who wished it.

_May 14_ (Friday). We reached Vermilion Creek, after a very disagreeable march of twenty-one miles. The air was raw and cold, and most of the day a cold wind blew directly in our faces. The roads were deeply cut with ruts, and the gra.s.s was filled with water. The Sixth was ahead at the beginning, but we pa.s.sed them on the march; and although they tried once or twice to regain their position, they failed to do so.

_May 15_ (Sat.u.r.day). Another cold day. We marched twenty miles, to the Big Blue River. Overcoats were worn, and we were glad to keep our hands in our pockets. About 11 a.m. we were treated to a heavy hailstorm, the stones coming rattling about our ears as large as marbles.

There is a ghost of a village here, which the residents have the presumption to call "Palmetto City." It consists of a blacksmith shop, a tavern, two stores, and five or six log houses; and boasts of a weekly paper, just large enough to make a good cigar-lighter. Sugar crackers sell at 35 cents per pound, and whiskey, of doubtful quality, at 75 cents per quart.

_May 16_ (Sunday). A day of rest for everybody except us. It rained all day. The Infantry lay in their tents and watched the Engineers at work with pick and shovel. We went to the river crossing, and employed the old remedy, brush and digging, to make it pa.s.sable. After returning to camp we were each treated to a gill of whiskey, which, we were informed, it was a part of our duty to drink. Some of the men brought wood and made a large camp fire, and stood by it to dry themselves in the rain.

_May 17_ (Monday). The next day we resumed our march, and encamped at Cottonwood Creek, only eleven and three-quarter miles from the Big Blue.

_May 18_ (Tuesday). We went on to Turkey Creek, twenty-one and three-quarter miles. It was quite a warm day, and several of the men had recourse to the wagons, on account of lameness. Some wolves were seen prowling about during the march. Lieutenant Alexander fired at one or two, but the distance was such, apparently, that the animals were only amused by the whistling of the bullets. Part of the Company repaired the crossing of the creek this evening.

_May 19_ (Wednesday). The waters of Big Sandy Creek, which we reached the next day, after a march of twenty-one and a half miles, were very limpid, an unusual thing in this country. We nearly all took a wash.

_May 20_ (Thursday). We encamped at a place called "West Point on Blue River," after a march of nineteen and three-quarter miles. Considerable game was within sight to-day, among which were several antelopes.

Attempts were made to capture some, but we only succeeded in bringing a wolf into camp.

_May 21_ (Friday). We went to the Little Blue River, twenty-one and three-quarter miles. The heat to-day was very great. The perspiration oozed at every pore--and the dust collected on our faces and in our eyes, filled our noses, and encrusted our lips. Lieutenant Alexander and Sergeant Pierce saw some buffaloes, and went out to shoot one; but, provokingly enough, some mischievous Puck was officious enough to turn them into oxen just in time to disappoint the hunters and to save the lives of the animals.

_May 22_ (Sat.u.r.day). We went as far as Little Blue Valley, twenty-one and a third miles. We overtook an ox-train bound for Salt Lake, and a difficulty arose concerning our pa.s.sing them. The place was such that we could not turn out of the road to pa.s.s, and those in charge of the train did not seem inclined to hurry to a point where we could pa.s.s.

Argument was of no avail, and consequently we came into collision. The battle was to the strong--the quick, furious plunges of the mules proving too much for the sluggish pulling of the oxen. One of our wagons got through, and then, by driving the leaders' noses against the tailboards of the preceding wagons, all our train made its pa.s.sage through. One of the teamsters of the ox-train gazed with wild astonishment at our harmless forge, and asked at last, "Are you going to take _only one cannon_ with you?"

_May 23_ (Sunday). This turned out to be another day of rest--and, as nothing could be found for us to do, we had our share in it, too.

Last night we were all awakened by the fury of a severe thunder storm.

The rain fell in torrents, and a little of it made its way into the tents. The wind blew a perfect tornado. As we expected every minute to be without a roof over our heads, and could do nothing to avert the danger, we did the next best thing--sat down and smoked our pipes. The lightning was blinding, and the flashes followed each other in constant succession. The loud thunder rattled everything movable around us. But the storm was too violent to last, and before our pipes were out we saw the full moon in the sky, and the lunar-bow.

_May 24_ (Monday). Last night we were favored with act two of the play begun the night before. The wind, hail, and rain raged with a fury not a whit less severe, but again no damage was done.

We marched to the Second Crossing of Elm Creek, seventeen and a third miles. The effect of the storm was to render our marching less comfortable, the roads being very muddy and the gra.s.s dripping with water, so that we were soon wet and muddy up to our knees. We came across a couple of emigrants, near the close of our march.

_May 25_ (Tuesday). This day brought us to the valley of the Platte River, after a march of eighteen miles. The valley is level, and about three miles in width, the river winding along a serpentine course. The river is nearly a quarter of a mile wide, and from two to twelve feet in depth, the current being very swift and powerful.

The day closed with a sad accident. A supernumerary teamster of the commissary train, Thomas B. Smith, of New Jersey, went in bathing, took cramps, and was carried away by a relentless current to a watery grave.

Fruitless efforts were made to recover the body.

A grave was seen as we descended into the valley; a lonely record of sanguine expectations and frustrated hopes. A board at the head bore the inscription, "Miss Susan G. Hale, Mormon; Died 1852, Aged 24 years."

Here first commenced the work of gathering buffalo chips for fuel. We engaged in the duty somewhat reluctantly, softening the unpleasantness of it by laughing at each other.

_May 26_ (Wednesday). We reached the long-looked-for Fort Kearney, marching thirteen and a third miles. Our course lay along the valley, and the Fort was in sight throughout the march. It first consisted only of a chimney and a flag-pole, but every mile added something to it. A large house, we found, was attached to the chimney, and a flag to the pole, and at last the place grew into several extensive buildings, flanked about by adobe houses. Inhabitants: Infantry and washerwomen.

Goods for sale: buffalo skins and whiskey. Game: buffaloes and wolves.

Products: prairie gra.s.s and cacti. Water very poor.

A mail was distributed among us, and the happy recipients sought shady nooks in which to have a chat with some loved one, or perhaps to battle with wind and sand in trying to reply to the epistles received.

_May 27_ (Thursday). We remained in camp on account of about fifty teamsters of the commissary train striking for higher wages. They were marched away from the camp, bag and baggage, with the guard at their rear at _charge bayonets_. The delay was rather fortunate, however, as it gave an opportunity, both to us and the mules, to recuperate from the wear and tear of the march.

_May 28_ (Friday). We left Fort Kearney behind, but made only ten and a half miles, none of us being in the long-march humor. The prairie was covered with long, dead gra.s.s, and some careless individual lighted his pipe and the prairie at the same time. We soon succeeded in extinguis.h.i.+ng the blaze. But we were not long in camp before we were turned out by the _long roll_ to do battle once more with the devouring element; this time our weapons were gunny-bags and blankets, and the fire was soon thoroughly beaten out.

The command was joined before leaving Fort Kearney by Companies F and I of the Sixth Infantry. And we left behind at the Fort one of our own men, Robert Ayres, suffering with inflammatory rheumatism, so that he could have the advantage of good medical attendance and a comfortable hospital.