Life of a Pioneer: Being the Autobiography of James S. Brown

by James S. Brown

By order of Colonel Cooke, Captain James Brown of Company C took command of all the sick that were unable to continue the journey to California; also of most of the laundresses, and a few able-bodied men, with directions to go north to Pueblo, and join Captain Higgins. In order to determine who were not able to continue the march to California, we were drawn up in line, and the officers and Dr. Sanderson inspected the whole command. The doctor scrutinized every one of us, and when he said a man was not able to go, his name was added to Captain Brown's detachment, whether the man liked it or not; and when the doctor said a man could make the trip, that settled the matter. The operation was much like a cooper culling stave timber, or a butcher separating the lean from the fat sheep.

My desire was very strong to continue the overland journey, and when the doctor neared me, I braced up and tried to look brave and hardy. To the doctor's inquiry, "How do you feel?" my answer was, "First rate." He looked at me suspiciously and said, "You look d—d pale and weak," then passed on, and I was greatly relieved at having gone safely through the inspection.

In order No. 8, Colonel Cooke called the particular attention of the company commanders to the necessity of reducing baggage as much as possible; that means for transportation were very deficient; that the road was almost impracticable, much of it being in deep sand, and how soon we would have to abandon our wagons it was impossible to ascertain; that skillets and ovens could not be taken, and but one camp-kettle to each mess of ten men.

Colonel Cooke very properly and correctly pointed out that everything seemed to conspire to discourage the extraordinary undertaking of marching the battalion 1,100 miles, for the much greater part of the way through an unknown wilderness, without road or trail, and with a wagon train. He said the battalion was much worn by traveling on foot, marching from Nauvoo, Illinois; their clothing was very scant, there was no money to pay them, or clothing to issue; the mules were utterly broken down; the quartermaster's department was out of funds and its credit bad; animals were scarce, and those procured were inferior and deteriorating every hour from the lack of forage. All this made it necessary that such careful preparation as could be should be made in advance.

It can be easily seen from this statement that the condition and prospects of the battalion were not very encouraging; yet there were very few of the men who had the least desire to retrace their steps—they knew what they had passed through, but looking ahead they tried to hope for the best, realizing, just as they had been told, that the country through which they had to travel was an unknown region.

With the colonel's orders carried out, we got ready to move, and about the 21st of October we left Santa Fe and traveled six or eight miles to a stream called Agua Fria (cold water). Grass for animals was very short, the nights were very cold, and our road was in heavy sand almost from the start. Our advance was slow, for the best teams had been taken for extra service or express duties in other departments. Besides, there was added to our already overburdened animals the load of sacks, packsaddles, lashing-ropes, etc., necessary in the event of being compelled to abandon the wagons, so we would not be entirely without means of transportation. There was also the burden of sheep pelts and blankets to use under pack saddles, and as most of these were bought second-hand, they were well stocked with the insects commonly called "greybacks."

In a short time we drew near to the mountains, and the weather became colder. Having but one blanket each we began to use the pelts and saddle-blankets to splice out our scanty store of bedding. Thus we proceeded over sandy roads, through the towns and villages of Spaniards, Indians and Greasers—the surroundings presented being of such a sameness that the journey became very monotonous.

Soon after leaving Santa Fe our rations were reduced to one-third the regular amount allowed by law to the soldier. A detail of men was called as a substitute for mules, to move and to lighten the loads of the ammunition wagons. Each soldier was required to carry sixty-four rounds of cartridges that contained each a one-ounce ball, three buck-shot, and powder enough to send them where they should be, besides the heavy paper they were wrapped in, and extra flints for the firelock—about two hundred ounces added to the already overburdened soldier.

Now the soldier must wade the tributaries of the Rio Grande del Norte, sometimes waist deep and more, and is not allowed even to take off his shoes, or any of his wearing apparel. An officer, perched on his white mule on some point or eminence overlooking the whole command, with a hawk's eye for keen military experience, calls to this or that squad of men, with a horrid oath, as if they were brutes; often he curses the men until they long for a battle where perchance someone would remember the tyrant with an ounce ball and three buckshot. And yet, if that feeling were not quenched in the soldier's bosom it would not require an engagement with the enemy to accomplish the deed. But, praise God, that feeling quickly passed off as the men marched along, their clothes wet, and their thick soled cowhide army shoes partly filled with sand—the chafing and galling of the flesh without and the gnawing and grinding of the stomach within defied the mind to dwell upon any one subject for long at a time.

Is it any wonder that under these conditions fifty-five of our comrades wore down and collapsed so they had to go on the sick list and it became necessary for Lieutenant W. W. Willis to take command of that number of invalid soldiers, and join Captains Higgins and Brown at Pueblo? This company of sick and exhausted men left us, on their return, about the 10th or 12th of November.