All who could be spared from the tents went eagerly to the White Oak grove, and there learned that the rumors were true. The United States government demanded that a battalion of five hundred men be raised by the Mormon Church, then fleeing from mob violence for the want of protection by that government whose right and duty it was to protect them. The men of the moving camp were required to leave their families in the wilderness, almost unprotected, and go to a foreign land to fight their country's battles.
But wonders never cease. The leading men among the Mormons—Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, Wilford Woodruff, and others of the Twelve Apostles—stood before the people and called for volunteers to engage in the Mexican war, saying that the five hundred men must be raised if it took the whole strength of the camp to do it. If the young men would not enlist, the middle-aged and old men would, said President Young; the demand of our country should be met if it took the Twelve Apostles and the High Priests.
At the close of the meeting there were many who were enthused, while others appeared confused and did not seem to catch the spirit of the matter. I was not yet a member of the Church, but all the old stories of the war of the Revolution and that of 1812, with the later Black Hawk Indian wars, brightened in my memory so that the spirit of the patriots awoke within me, and although I was averse to war and bloodshed, I had a desire to serve my country in any legitimate way. Yet I felt that, as I was under age, and, as my Uncle Alexander Stephens had decided to enlist, the responsibility of my father's affairs now rested on me.
My uncle and I were standing by the roadside talking over the situation, when along came Ezra T. Benson, who had been recently selected as one of the Twelve Apostles; there also came Richmond Louder, one of my associates from boyhood, and Matthew Caldwell. Richmond Louder and I had talked previously of being baptized together. He said they were going down to attend to that sacred ordinance, and invited me to accompany them, which I did gladly. We went to the south fork of the Grand River, and with Uncle A. Stephens as a witness were baptized. This was on the 7th of July, 1846. Then we went to the house of General Charles C. Rich, where we were confirmed, I think under the hands of Elders Willard Richards and Ezra T. Benson, in the presence of President Brigham Young and others of the Twelve Apostles.
This done, the happiest feeling of my life came over me. I thought I would to God that all the inhabitants of the earth could experience what I had done as a witness of the Gospel. It seemed to me that, if they could see and feel as I did, the whole of humankind would join with us in one grand brotherhood, and the universe would be prepared for the great Millennial morn.
When we returned to camp, my aunts partook of the same feeling that had filled me. Then I got the spirit to enlist, and after a short consultation with those most concerned they advised me to lay the matter before Ezra T. Benson. Accordingly, the next morning Uncle A. Stephens and I went over to the grove. I told the Elder my feelings, and the responsibilities left upon me by my father. Elder Benson said the Spirit's promptings to me were right, and I had started right. He told me to go on, saying I would be blessed, my father would find no fault with me, his business would not suffer, and I would never be sorry for the action I had taken or for my enlistment. Every word he said to me has been fulfilled to the very letter.
Uncle Alexander Stephens and I then went to a tent where men were giving in their names as volunteers. We handed in our names, and were enrolled as members of the historic Mormon Battalion.
CHAPTER IV.
START FOR THE BATTALION RENDEZVOUS—A JOURNEY OF HARDSHIP—IN THE MORMONS' CAMP ON THE MISSOURI RIVER—FIRST EXPERIENCES IN THE ARMY—BLESSED BY APOSTLES—PROPHETIC ADDRESS BY PRESIDENT BRIGHAM YOUNG—THE BATTALION STARTS ON ITS LONG JOURNEY—DOING CAMP DUTY—HEAVY STORMS AND INSUFFICIENT RATIONS—HARD EXPERIENCES—AT FORT LEAVENWORTH—MEXICAN MULES AS A CURE FOR EGOTISM—COLONEL ALLEN TAKEN ILL—ON THE SANTA FE ROAD—SUFFERING FROM THIRST—SICKNESS AMONG THE TROOPS—DR. G.B. SANDERSON, A TYRANNICAL QUACK—ARMY MERCHANTS—ORDER OF MARCHING.
IT was about one o'clock in the afternoon of July 9 when we bade our friends an affectionate farewell, and started on what we understood to be a journey of one hundred and thirty-eight miles, to join the army of the United States at our country's call. We had provisions enough put up to last us on our trip. The night previous our old clothes had received the necessary repairs. Our preparations were hasty and incomplete, for we had been told (by an unauthorized person, as we afterwards learned) that when we got to Sarpy's Point, on the Missouri River, we would draw uniforms, clothing, blankets, and rations, and would have to cast aside our old clothes.