It was on May 4th, I believe, that we reached Nauvoo, having passed through Mount Sterling, the county seat of Brown County, also through Carthage, where the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother the Patriarch Hyrum Smith had been assassinated. We found the roads so muddy and such hard traveling that we did not make more than fifteen miles a day. When we came in sight of the Temple at Nauvoo our hearts were filled with mingled joy and sorrow—joy that we had seen the Temple of the Lord, and sorrow that the Saints had been so cruelly driven from it.
As we passed through the city we saw many houses which had been abandoned—indeed, the city itself seemed almost deserted. At some of the houses stood covered wagons, into which people were packing goods preparatory to their flight into the wilderness, they knew not where.
Looking westward across the great Mississippi River, we saw long trains of wagons strung out over the high rolling prairie. The country was new, and the roads muddy, so we rested three or four days, visiting the Temple and viewing the city that was beautiful for situation, but now was left with few inhabitants. Everything in and about the city that formerly hummed with industry and life was now lonely, saddened, and forlorn, and silent but for the preparations for flight by the remnant therein.
About the 8th of May we crossed the great "father of waters" and joined the "rolling kingdom" on its westward journey. We found friends and acquaintances, made up a company of our own, and passed and were repassed on the trip. Climbing an eminence from which we looked east and west, covered wagons could be seen as far as the eye could reach. The teams were made up of oxen, milch cows, two-year-old steers and heifers, and very few horses and mules. The teamsters were of both sexes, and comprised young and old. The people who could walk did so, and many were engaged in driving loose stock.
Hundreds of teams stuck in the mud, and we had to double-up and help one another out. Many times we had to wade in mud half to our knees and lift our wagons out of the mire. In this the women not infrequently would join their husbands and sons, and the old adage came true in numerous instances—women for a dead lift; when they plunged into the mud and put their shoulders to the wheels the men were urged to do double effort, and the wagon always rolled out and onward, at the rate of twelve to fifteen miles per day.
At every creek we found campers, some repairing wagons, yokes, chains, etc., doctoring sick cattle, washing clothes, or helping forward friends whose teams were weak. In all this there was excellent order, for the camps were organized in a general way by tens, fifties and hundreds. Peace and harmony prevailed all along the line. Evening prayers were attended to in each camp. There was much singing, mostly of sacred hymns or sentimental songs; and from no quarter could coarse songs be heard. Sometimes the camp would meet in a sociable dance in the evenings, to drive dull care away; and then there always was good order and the most perfect friendship and peace.
The camps were instructed not to kill game of any kind to waste its flesh; they were not even to kill a snake on the road, for it was their calling to establish peace on earth, and good will toward man and beast. Thus all went on in peace and order.
At one of the headwaters of the Grand River, Iowa, we found some hundreds of people putting in gardens and field crops (corn and potatoes). A few cabins had been built, so father and our party decided to stop there. We put in a few acres of corn and garden stuff, then father returned to Illinois to bring up the rest of the family, leaving my Uncle Alexander Stephens and myself to look after the crop and stock, which we did faithfully.
About the 6th of July we heard that President Young and several of the Twelve Apostles had returned from the most advanced companies, and that there would be a meeting held at the white oak grove—the usual place of meeting—the next day. There was also a rumor in camp that a government recruiting officer had come to enlist volunteers, for the United States had declared war against Mexico.
Of course this latter tidings was a great surprise, as the Mormons had been denied protection against mob violence and had been forced beyond the borders of civilization in the United States, and our camps were stretched out in an Indian country, from the Mississippi River to the Missouri. Surprised as we were at the government's demand, we were still more so to think that our leaders would entertain for a moment the idea of encouraging compliance therewith. Yet rumor said that President Young and the prominent men with him had come as recruiting officers as well.