Among the volunteers at Fort Bridger was Patrick Tully, who had come over from Ireland with General Connor. These friends served their first enlistment together. Connor took up the study of law, became prominent, and, when the war broke out, was colonel of a volunteer regiment from California, afterwards brigadier general of volunteers, and assigned to the command of the District of Salt Lake.
Tully left the regular service and joined a volunteer regiment. He was one of those soldiers who, either by misfortune or bad conduct, was constantly in the guard house. At inspections, the general generally found Tully confined, and Tully never failed to plead the ground of their former friendship for release, Connor as constantly granting it.
Somewhat ostentatious, General Connor, when leaving one post for another, invariably telegraphed, "I leave for your post today. Have quarters prepared for me on my arrival," being always careful to sign himself "P. Edward Connor," leaving out the Pat or Patrick, by which both he and Tully were known.
All the volunteers at Bridger were ordered to Salt Lake to be mustered out—Tully among the rest.
When Tully was ordered to make preparations for the march, he sent a request from the guard house asking to send a telegram. Arrived at the telegraph office, he dictated the following:
"To General P. Edward Connor, Commanding District of Salt Lake:
"Sir: I leave here for your post today. Have quarters prepared for me on my arrival.
P. Edward Tully."
It is needless to say that Connor honored the requisition and had secure (if not ample) quarters, prepared for "P. Edward Tully."
I was prejudiced against the Mormons, but found they were the best people in the country, and the only ones who would fill contracts fairly. The Gentiles practiced every device to beat the government, but the word of a Mormon was his bond. With Major Lewis commanding Fort Douglas at Salt Lake, I called upon Brigham Young. He looked like General Grant, and was an earnest and, I believe, a sincere and conscientious man. He said he was glad to meet a regular officer, because the regular army always treated them well, but that the volunteers under Connor had been demoralizing to those of the Mormon faith. Discussing my prejudice against his people, about which he asked and I answered frankly, he said, "You have doubtless heard we are disloyal to the Union." Pointing to the flag flying over his Tabernacle, he said it had waved every day since the war began. Upon his invitation I attended his church and heard him preach the next Sunday. I visited the Tabernacle in company with his son-in-law and saw open on the pulpit the inspired volumes from which they preached—the Old Testament, the New Testament, and the Book of Mormon. He presented a copy of the latter to me, inscribed with his name, which I still have. My experiences changed my mind regarding the Mormon people. I believe their church the equal of any in the inculcation of those qualities which make the Mormons law-abiding, industrious, economical and faithful to all their agreements.
Christmas Eve, Judge Carter, the sutler, gave a dancing party. While the officers and ladies were dancing, I received a dispatch announcing the massacre of Fetterman and his command, part of my regiment, at Fort Philip Kearny. We were all of the same regiment. I stopped the band and read the despatch, which cast the garrison into gloom, and presaged a general war with the Sioux.
Jim Bridger, a well-known frontiersman, who had been with the Indians since he was fourteen years old, was the post guide. He was reticent and hard to know, but a genius in many ways.