While some of the minor details given in this chapter about the Reeds and their wagon and supplies (such as the placement of furniture in the wagon) had to be created by the author, the majority of the material comes from historical sources on the Donner-Reed Party. Reed was Irish but was thought to be of Polish aristocracy. His wife, Margret, was in failing health but would prove to be a courageous woman. The “pioneer palace car,” with its stove and spring seats and commodious beds, was all part of Reed’s design to make the trip as comfortable as possible for her and his invalid mother-in-law. (See Walter M. Stookey, Fatal Decision: The Tragic Story of the Donner Party [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1950], pp. 60–61; and George R. Stewart, Ordeal by Hunger: The Story of the Donner Party [Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1988], pp. 11–12, 16–17.) Other sources question whether the wagon was as large and spacious as some would suggest (see Kristin Johnson, “The Pioneer Palace Car: Adventures in Western Mythmaking,” Crossroads 5 [Summer 1994]: 5–8).
The scripture Benjamin quotes to Joshua is now Alma 34:37–38.
Chapter 32
By early afternoon of the ninth day of February, the air had warmed enough that the hard freeze of the night before was gone and one’s breath showed only for a moment in the air. The sky was still overcast, but it was high and thin and held no promise of immediate snow. On Granger Street, between Mulholland and Ripley Streets—that block commonly known as Steed Row—four wagons were lined up along the west side of the street. Three of the wagons looked exactly the same. The odd one, and the last in line, was the wagon Joshua and Carl had brought down from Wisconsin. Built for hauling timber out of the woods, it was three feet longer and the wagon box had slightly higher sides than the others. Also, the canvas cover was darker and more weathered than the new canvas that sheltered the other three.
When it came to the teams, however, there was no match at all. The two mules that came down from Wisconsin were not hitched to the lumber wagon. They were pulling the lead wagon, which carried Benjamin and Mary Ann, Matthew, Jenny, and the young couple’s two children. The largest wagon had three yoke of oxen—six in all—hitched to it. Because they had the greatest number of people, Jessica and Solomon Garrett were given the lumber wagon. They also carried three hundred more pounds of flour than the others because of the extra room. That much weight was too much for the two mules.
Nathan’s wagon, the second in line, had only two yoke of oxen, the minimum for pulling a fully loaded wagon. Three would have been better, but they simply had not been able to purchase another yoke. Of greater concern was the fact that Derek and Rebecca had only a team of horses to pull their wagon. They were a heavy-shouldered pair of draft horses that had proven their worth on some of Joshua’s freight hauls, but for a trek of such long duration, oxen would have been better. But here again it was a case of necessity making the decisions for them.
The family’s array of stock was rounded out by one milk cow tied to the back of Nathan’s wagon, and a riding horse tied at the rear of Derek’s. The horse wore its saddle so as to save space and weight in the wagon. Once across the river, the men and older children would take turns riding the horse to lighten the loads in the wagons.
All morning long, Steed Row had looked like a colony of prairie dogs. People ducked out of the houses carrying boxes, bags, or piles of clothing. They would poke their heads into the wagons, disappear momentarily, then scurry back to the houses again. The flour, seeds, and heavy tools had been loaded the day before. Now came the household and personal goods—bedding, clothing, kitchen utensils, water buckets, pistols, rifles, ammunition, matches carefully wrapped in waxed paper, sugar, salt, pepper, other spices, baskets and tins of dried fruit, medications. Inside the houses, there were debates—sometimes heated, sometimes tearful—about whether this or that could be taken or had to be left behind. Usually, the latter decision held sway.
By one o’clock, the last item had been stowed, the last grease bucket tied to the side of the wagon, the last mess in the house tidied up and put away. As Benjamin looked around and saw that at last it was done, he motioned for Savannah. She scampered over to him.
“Savannah. Will you go tell everyone that we’re going to have family prayer before we leave? We’ll meet in Grandma’s living room.”
“Yes, Grandpa.” And away she went.
They all came, even those who would not be leaving this day. They crowded in, faces sorrowful, voices subdued. Benjamin watched until the last were seated either in chairs or on the floor, then stood up.
“The hour of our departure has finally come,” he said gruffly. “This is the time we have been dreading for months now, the time when our family will be separated again.” He paused and looked around the room. Every eye was fastened on him. “Most of us undertake a difficult journey to a place we know not. I felt it was appropriate that we have this one last opportunity to have prayer together so we can ask the Lord to watch over all of us. I would suggest that we kneel.”
It took several moments for the moving and shuffling to stop and for everyone to find a place. He saw that for the most part, they knelt together as families, and that seemed appropriate. When they were finally settled, Benjamin bowed his head. All the rest followed suit.
“Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. As we kneel here this day, prepared to follow thy call into the wilderness—a call that now separates us from each other—we remind ourselves that we are here to see that thy will is done on earth as it is in heaven.
“Our hearts are filled with sorrow, Father, when we consider that we will be separated as a family. How we thank thee for this family! How we thank thee that it has been our special privilege to be a part of it! We thank thee for the children that were sent to our home. We thank thee that they have found husbands and wives who have likewise become part of our family. We thank thee for the numerous grandchildren who are gathered around us. In this rising generation, we have great hopes for the future. We find each one a joy and a delight and pray for them. We are thankful for those who have been joined to our family through circumstance and who have become part of us as though they were our own.”
He stopped, hearing the first of the sniffles sounding around him. “Father, we are mindful that already members of our family have been taken on different paths. We pray for them, Father. We pray for Will and Alice on their voyage to California. Smooth the seas and chart their path clearly. May it be our privilege to meet them again in that place thou hast designed to be our new home. We are grateful for the news received just yesterday that Kathryn and Peter have found a way west. We are grateful for thy tender mercies unto them and plead for thy protective care to overshadow them until they can join us again.”
Now the room was filled with the sound of sniffling and stifled sobs and Benjamin had to stop for a moment. Finally, he took a breath and went on. “O Holy Father, we pray for those who will be left behind here in Nauvoo. We pray a special blessing on Melissa and Carl and their children. Keep them safe from any danger and help them prosper. Let them know of our deep love for them and that they shall always be in our prayers. Be with Joshua and Caroline and their children. Protect and care for them. Let them know of our great love and concern for them and keep them safe until we can meet again.”
He stopped once more and took a deep breath. “Now, Father, we express our gratitude to thee for thy house which is not far from us and which we leave now this day. How grateful we are that we could see it completed to this point so that we could be endowed with power in preparation for our departure into the wilderness.”
His voice caught and he knew there was no way he could stop his own tears from coming. “How grateful we are that under the sealing power of thy priesthood our family has been sealed together for time and for all eternity! Be with those who have not yet had this wonderful privilege, that someday they too may join that eternal circle.”
Beside him, he could feel the shudders running through Mary Ann’s body. Without opening his eyes, he reac
hed out and took her hand. “Now, Father, we prepare to depart. We commend ourselves to thy over-watching care. As Israel of old was guided by thee, we ask that thou wilt oversee our journey and protect us from our enemies and from any danger. Be with us as we seek a place of refuge where we can raise our children in peace. Keep us safe. Make us strong. Buoy up our feeble and fainting hearts so that we may have the courage to do thy will. And this we pray for in the name of our beloved Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.”
One by one the doors were shut and locked, and the family members walked slowly out to the wagons. There they turned their keys over to Carl and Joshua, who would work with the committee of trustees charged with selling what property was not already disposed of.
Finally the moment arrived. Nothing more could postpone that moment they had all been dreading. Even the children, excited and giggling all morning, were subdued now as they filed back out into the street.
Benjamin looked up at the sky. It was still overcast, and the sun was no more than a brighter spot of gray in the sky. It was clearly past its zenith. He turned to the family. “We’d better get started. We’re to be at the ferry by two o’clock. Children, you’d better say good-bye to your cousins.”
He looked at Mary Ann. Her eyes were shining, and her lip started to tremble. “It’s time, Mother,” he added softly.
Amid wails and cries, the children swarmed around each other. For Melissa’s and Caroline’s children, there was no mistaking the envy that mingled with their sorrow. In their minds, this was an adventure that came along only once in a lifetime and they were the ones who were missing out. The parents saw it as something far more tragic than that. It was the breakup of the family.
As they watched their offspring hugging each other and making outrageous promises to write every day, Joshua finally turned to his parents. “I’m going to accompany you across the river,” he said. “I’ll say my good-byes there.”
Savannah spun around. “Can I go with you, Papa? Can I? Please?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m just going to cross over on the ferry and see them off. Then I’m coming right back.”
Caroline looked at her daughter. “We’ll go down to the ferry landing with them, but not across the river.”
“Oh, please, Papa,” she begged, wringing her hands. “I want to see Grandma and Grandpa off too. Please. I’ve been so good. I’ve not said anything about not going. Please, Papa. Please!”
Joshua looked at his father, who was smiling in spite of himself. “Don’t look at me,” Benjamin said. “She’s purely yours.”
“I want to go! I want to go!” Sarah cried out.
But Carl squashed that immediately. “We’re not going down to the river, Sarah.” He glanced at Melissa, who was weeping copiously now. “It’s better if we say good-bye here.”
Benjamin turned to Joshua and Caroline as Savannah jumped to his side and threw her arms around him. “If Joshua’s coming across with us, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
Joshua shook his head in surrender. He looked at Caroline, who nodded. The bond between these two—a redheaded imp and a gray-haired patriarch—had always been unusually strong. Caroline remembered that first time in Missouri when Savannah had slipped out of her mother’s arms and trotted into Benjamin’s—a thing unheard of for her. “All right,” she said, “but you stay right with your father.”
“Oh, thank you, Mama. Thank you, Papa.”
Now Carl stepped forward to face Nathan. He stuck out his hand and Nathan gripped it firmly. “Thank you for the other night, Nathan. I know you think it didn’t do any good, but it meant a lot to me and Melissa that you cared enough to try.”
Nathan started to answer, then suddenly couldn’t speak. He pulled Carl forward and threw his arms around him, holding him tightly to himself. “Take care, Carl,” he finally managed. “Take care of our Melissa.”
“I will.”
All around now the tears were flowing. Melissa was the most affected. Tears were streaming down her face. Her body shuddered as she fought to keep at least some control. She went to Matthew, who took her by the hands and then gently kissed her on the cheek. “Good-bye, dear, dear Melissa,” he said in a low, strained voice. “Oh, how we’ll miss you!”
That did it. She began to sob and could say nothing as Jenny took her in her arms. Then Jessica and Solomon moved in, as did Derek and Rebecca. Carl stepped to Melissa’s side and put his arm around her, steadying her as her body was swept by great shudders. After she had clung to each of them, Carl gently turned her around to face her parents. With a great cry, she threw herself into her father’s arms. “Oh, Papa, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He took her face in his hands, tears welling up in his own eyes. “Sweet Melissa. You will always be in our thoughts and in our prayers.” He pulled her to him with a sudden fierceness. “Don’t stop believing, Melissa. Whatever else happens, don’t stop believing.”
She couldn’t answer. She buried her face against him and wet his shoulder with her tears. Finally, he stepped back and turned her toward her mother. Now any semblance of control that was left to her totally collapsed. Mary Ann opened her arms, and Melissa fell into them, her body shaking, the sobs coming out in great cries of pain. “Oh, Mama!”
“It’s all right, Melissa. It’s all right.”
“We’re not coming down to the river,” Melissa gasped, between sobs. “I can’t bear it. I can’t!”
“I know.” Mary Ann reached up and stroked her daughter’s hair, tasting the salt of her own tears as they streamed down her face. “We’ll never stop praying that you’ll come, Melissa. Never!”
Melissa said nothing, just clung to her all the more fiercely.
Caroline was saying her farewells too. She was weeping, but still was in control of herself. For the longest time, she and Lydia held each other, not saying anything. Then finally, Lydia pulled back to look at her. “You’ll come, Caroline. You will. I feel it.”
“Yes. I think so too. Give us a couple of years and I think we’ll be there.” Now a fresh burst of tears overflowed. “Otherwise, I would be like Melissa. I could not bear to see you go.”
She turned to Nathan. As he hugged her, she looked over his shoulder. Joshua was standing aside, waiting for the good-byes to be said. She went up on tiptoes. “I don’t know if the fire and what happened with Walter Samuelson was the Lord’s doing or not, Nathan,” she whispered, “but I do know that before the family started fasting, I had no hope. Now I have hope, Nathan. Thank you.”
He shook his head, deeply moved. “No, Caroline. It is your faith and your goodness that the Lord is responding to.” He laughed softly. “And somehow, I think the Lord was afraid that if he didn’t do something, he might have Savannah to contend with.”
Caroline smiled at him through her weeping. “Yes. She won’t give up.”
Suddenly, Nathan’s eyes began to burn. “Shall I tell you the greatest miracle, Caroline?”
“What?”
“What you have done for Joshua. Don’t give up on him.”
She stepped back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I won’t,” she whispered. “I won’t.”
The scene at the ferry dock at first seemed as chaotic as the one on Steed Row, but after watching for a few minutes, Nathan could see that there was underlying order here as well. There was a large crowd milling around the landing area. Many of these, like the Steeds, were leaving the city. Others were clearly family and friends come to see them off. There were several men, obviously not Mormons, who stood in a cluster on one end of the dock, smoking cigars or working their jaws steadily as they chewed on wads of tobacco stuffed inside their cheeks. These were the river transients, the riffraff that plied the river towns all up and down the Mississippi. They watched the crowd around them with obvious disgust, muttering or making mocking remarks. The Mormons tried to ignore them.
When the Steeds arrived with their four wagons, they became the thirteenth through the sixteenth wagons in
line. That was a little before two o’clock. Now, as it approached half past three, they were next up for loading. There were two large flatboats ferrying back and forth to the Iowa side. These carried up to four wagons and as many as thirty people at a time. There were also two smaller boats that could take one wagon and family each trip. Numerous lighter craft—skiffs, rowboats, canoes—seemed to be taking individuals and small groups across with nothing more than what they carried with them. The river was running with slush, and there were large chunks of ice coming down from the upstream breakup. A few blocks were almost as big as some of the smaller boats and presented a real threat to crossing. A jagged corner could puncture the side of a canoe like a knife piercing soft leather.
The largest of the flatboats—empty on its return trip—was pulling in to the ferry dock. Right behind it came a second, smaller boat, empty now as well. The lead captain jumped off the boat and onto the shore. He came up to Benjamin, Joshua, and Nathan. “How many?” he barked.
“Four,” Benjamin answered.
The man stepped back and eyed the line. “The fourth one is yours too?”
Joshua nodded.
“I can’t get all four of you on my boat,” he said, “not with that many oxen.” He glanced quickly at the other flatboat, which was just tieing up, then spoke to Benjamin. “Who’s the fourth driver?”
“Solomon Garrett.”
“Hey, Garrett!” the man called. “Bring your rig up here and put it on this other boat.”
Solomon looked momentarily surprised, then nodded. He took the lead span of oxen, calling out softly, pulled out of line, and came up to where they were. As he did so, the captain eyed the other three men. “You’re still a little long, I think. Let’s unhook one span of oxen off that second wagon and send them with this big one. Also, you’ll have to untie the cow and horse. Lead them on first and take them up to the prow. We’ll be nose to wagon end as it is.”
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