Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Give me Jared,” Alice said to Josh. “You and Will go.”

  They tore off, following the men who were all running forward now. As they approached the lake where the trees thinned, they saw the riders coming on a run toward them. With a whoop of delight, Josh recognized the third man back. He started waving his arms wildly. “Peter! Peter!”

  Peter reined in hard, leaped off his horse, and shoved the reins at one of his companions. Then in three great leaps he and Josh met. They grabbed each other and whirled around, pounding each other on the back, laughing and shouting. Finally, Peter stopped and pushed Josh back at arm’s length. “Let me look at you,” he said. “I can’t believe how tall you are. I’ll bet you’ve added two hand spans since I saw you last.”

  “And about thirty pounds, I think,” Josh said, submitting to the scrutiny happily. “But look at you too. You’re all tan and lean. Will told me that you had become a bullwhacker.”

  “Kind of hard to believe, isn’t it? From poet to bullwhacker. Who would ever—?” He stopped as another figure stepped out from among the swarm of men. “Is that Will?” he exclaimed.

  “It is. He and Alice are with us.”

  Will came running up, grinning like a boy with a new horse. “Well, well, well,” he chortled. “You did come back.”

  “Told you I would, didn’t I?” Peter said, punching his arm lightly. Then he sobered. “I was afraid you’d still be at Sutter’s place waiting for me to come back for you.”

  “What? You think we would stay behind when there’s a group of Mormons headed for home?”

  “So Alice and Jared are with you?”

  “Waiting at the tent. Come on.” He took Peter’s arm and started moving away. The two groups were in chaos now as former companions in arms celebrated their reunion, and they had to push their way through.

  “Is it true, Peter?” Josh asked as they walked swiftly back toward the camp. “Are you in the Valley now? Do we really have us a home?”

  “Yes, Josh. Your father is there waiting for you. Your mother and the rest of the family are coming with the main companies, but will likely be there by the time we get back.”

  Will’s voice had turned wistful. “Can it really be? That sounds so good.”

  Suddenly reality set in. “Well, yes, but there’s one problem.”

  “What?”

  “Captain Brown has a letter from Brigham Young. It asks anyone who doesn’t have a good stock of supplies to turn back to California.”

  “We know. Elder Brannan told us about that last night.”

  “Oh.” Peter had forgotten about Brannan for the moment. He tried to explain. “Things in the Valley are very limited. There’s nothing there. Nothing. We had to bring in every button, every seed, every tool. We can’t add three hundred men who are destitute and will need to be supported. The President wants only those who won’t be a burden. The rest will turn back and come next season.”

  Will brushed that aside. “That’s all decided, Peter. Sutter paid me and Alice in horses and supplies. We’re better off than most.”

  Peter couldn’t help but look at Josh, whose clothes were so worn and shabby that he couldn’t have much of anything to his name.

  Will watched, savoring this next part. “And we also had company about a month ago.”

  Peter turned. “Who was that?”

  “James Reed. He brought you your pay for bullwhacking.” Grinning, he took out a leather pouch and jingled it up and down. “It’s only five hundred dollars.”

  Astonished, Peter just stared at him. “Five hundred dollars?”

  Will laughed aloud and tossed him the bag. “Yep. Think that’s enough to qualify Josh to go with us too?”

  On September twentieth, not quite a full two months after the arrival of the pioneers in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake, all work came to a halt. It was not the Sabbath, nor was it a formal holiday of any sort. It was a Monday, and there was still an enormous amount of work to be done as the weather turned colder. The mountains were now turning a brilliant red and orange, and twice already the peaks had been dusted with white. It was not because there was nothing urgent to do, but all work stopped anyway. Foundations for new cabins were left partially undone. The meager crops brought in hastily the previous few days were left in the wagons. The stone walls of the fort to the west of the Grand Encampment were nearly done but still needed a few more feet to be completed. The fort lay deserted, the stone masons’ hammers and trowels set aside for the moment.

  At ten o’clock the bugle sounded, and men, women, and children ran for their wagons. Dogs barked, oxen bellowed, children screeched, women called excitedly to each other, and men shouted at their teams. Then in one grand movement, the first wagons began to roll. One by one the half dozen wagons that were still in the Valley fell into line and started moving in a southeastward direction, up the gently sloping landscape toward what the new settlers were already calling the “benchland.” They followed the track they had made some two months before, but in the opposite direction. They were headed for that opening in the mountain face to the south and east of them. They were headed for the mouth of Last Canyon.

  Without anyone specifically directing them, when they reached the canyon’s mouth, one by one they pulled off the road, some to the right and some to the left. They lined up facing each other, with the wagon track between them. Suddenly quiet now, the people gathered behind the wagons. The adults stood in small groups, talking quietly. The few children in the company were allowed to play quietly, but were quickly shushed if they got boisterous. There were about two hundred people there, but they made no more noise than a dozen or so.

  One of those small groups that stood together consisted of Nathan Steed, Derek and Rebecca Ingalls and their three children, and Kathryn Ingalls and her baby, Nicole. They spoke quietly of other things, but as they talked, their eyes would continually turn toward the canyon. Heads would jerk around at the sound of a horse’s whinny or the stamp of an ox’s hoof. Then, when there was nothing, they would return to their conversations.

  At about ten minutes past noon, one of the men nearest the mouth of the canyon suddenly called out in a loud voice. “Quiet, everyone.”

  An instant hush swept over the assembly. Ears strained toward the east, listening intently. For a moment, there was nothing except the twitter of birds and the soft rustle of leaves as the breeze stirred them. And then there was something else. It was the jingle of harnessing and the rattle of a steel-rimmed wagon going over rocky ground.

  People edged forward, trying to see. For another two or three minutes there was nothing, though the sound of wagons was unmistakable now.

  “There they are!” It was a child who shouted it. He was jumping up and down, pointing. A yoke of oxen appeared, followed by another, and then the white top of a wagon. As perfectly unified as if given a signal, a great cheer went up and down the line of waiting pioneers. Now it was not just the children who were dancing up and down and waving their arms.

  “Oh, Derek,” Rebecca said softly, “what if they’re not with this first company?”

  “They may not be,” he said. “You heard what the rider said. There are nine companies in all. This is only the first.”

  “How far behind are the others, Papa?” Christopher asked.

  “A week,” Derek said without enthusiasm. “Maybe as much as ten days.”

  Kathryn groaned. “I absolutely shall die if they are not here.”

  The first wagon was fully in view now, and then the second team, this time mules, appeared. A man on a horse rode out from between the two wagons. When he saw what was waiting for them, he took off his hat and began to wave it as he spurred forward.

  “Can you tell who it is?” Rebecca asked Nathan.

  Nathan was already staring at the approaching rider. “It’s Daniel Spencer,” he said.

  Now the cheering and the shouts and the applause were deafening. Women were weeping and grown men had suddenly lost their ability to sp
eak. Brother Spencer smiled broadly, waving his hat and calling out greetings to those he knew. A third wagon and then a fourth came into sight. There was no longer any question. The first of the following companies had finally arrived.

  It was the order of the trail that the companies rotated their position in the train on a regular basis. The company of ten that led out one day would drop to the rear the next, then gradually work their way forward again. That way the terrible dust suffered by those at the rear was shared by all. On the day they had reached the Parting of the Ways, the Steeds’ group of ten had been at the rear. In the two weeks since, they had rotated once through completely and were now halfway back.

  In the narrow canyon, the rattle of the wagons, the crack of whips, the shouts of teamsters, and the bellowing of the cattle filled the air with noise. In this last stretch of canyon, the road was so rough that they had put everyone in the wagons to ride. Joshua was in the lead, with Caroline at his side. Luke Griffith was driving Lydia’s wagon, and Emily and Lydia were seated beside him. Next came Matthew and Jenny and Mary Ann, followed by Solomon, Jessica, and Rachel, then Carl and Melissa and their family.

  Beside him, Caroline gripped Joshua’s arm. “I can hardly breathe, Joshua.”

  He laughed. “The dust isn’t that bad, dear.”

  She poked him. “You know what I mean. Do you think they’ll be waiting for us?”

  He shook his head, poker-faced. “They’ve got too much to do to come out and wait for a ragtag group like us.”

  She almost hit him again. Then, seeing his face, she laughed in delight. “You’re as excited as I am, you faker!”

  “Yes,” he admitted. His pulse was racing, and he kept staring forward trying to see past the wagon ahead of them.

  And then suddenly the trees opened up, the canyon walls fell away, and a broad expanse of sky assaulted their eyes. At the same instant the wave of sound hit them, drowning out the noise of the wagons and teams and people.

  To Joshua’s intense surprise, he found himself suddenly unable to see anything except a blur of people waving and dancing around on both sides of the track. Completely caught off guard by his reaction, he quickly wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Savannah, standing behind her parents, suddenly started pounding Joshua’s shoulder. “There’s Kathryn. I see Kathryn.”

  “There they are!” It was Nathan. He slapped Derek on the back. “Look, there’s Joshua and Caroline.” He leaped up and down, waving both arms. “Joshua! Joshua!”

  Caroline was on her feet, hanging on to Joshua’s shoulder, waving wildly and shouting back at them. Suddenly a figure jumped down from the wagon behind Joshua’s and darted forward. With the dust, Nathan couldn’t see for sure who it was. He saw it was a person in a dress and bonnet, but could see nothing more. Then he heard the shout. “Papa! Papa!”

  “Emily?” It came out as a choked cry. Nathan took a step forward, his eyes burning with sudden tears. A great sob constricted his chest, making it in that instant difficult to breathe. “Emily!” He lunged forward, racing around a passing wagon. “Emily! Emily!”

  She hurled herself through the air over the last few feet and flew into his arms. “Papa, it’s you!”

  He buried his face in her hair and stood there, his whole body shaking as he held her tightly. Then, kissing her tear-stained cheeks, he moved her aside, and strode forward. Before the second wagon even stopped, he reached up for Lydia. With a cry of joy, she leaped from the wagon into his arms.

  By now any order had completely disappeared. Some groups stood back, disappointed to learn that their families were not in this company. But everywhere else, wagons pulled out of line and people jumped down and into each other’s arms.

  The Steeds formed one of the largest groups, with over thirty people trying to get to one another. Christopher and Benji and Leah were mobbed by their cousins. The women fell on each other’s necks and wept joyously, then cried out at the sight of Kathryn holding Nicole. In an instant she was surrounded. The men somberly shook hands and then embraced, too overcome to say anything of what they were feeling.

  Finally, as things began to settle down, Nathan went over to stand beside his mother. She was standing back now. She had been given the first turn with Nicole. Now the others were cuddling her and cooing at her.

  “This is the day, Mama! Reunion time.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. There were two wet streaks in the dust on her cheeks.

  “If only Papa were here,” he said softly. “That would make it complete.”

  “He’s here, Nathan,” she said, smiling through the tears. “Do you really think he would miss a day like today?”

  Nathan threw back his head and laughed aloud at the joy that that thought brought him. “No,” he answered. “Of course not.”

  Chapter Notes

  On July twenty-eighth, just four days after his arrival, Brigham Young selected the spot where the Salt Lake Temple now sits by marking a spot in the dirt with his cane. Before leaving again for the east, he also directed that the city be laid out perfectly square, with broad streets running north and south, east and west. (See Leonard J. Arrington, Brigham Young: American Moses[New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1985], p. 146.) The site for the fort the pioneers built is now Pioneer Park in Salt Lake City and is found between Third and Fourth West Streets and Third and Fourth South Streets.

  The Mormon Battalion stayed with the Saints from the Brooklynat the colony of New Hope for a short time. They also met Thomas Rhoads and his family, who lived about twenty miles from New Hope. They then continued north to Sutter’s Fort, arriving on 26 August, the same day that Brigham Young left for Winter Quarters.

  Once the battalion was discharged and split up into various groups to start back, it is hard to determine exact numbers of who went with each group. There were about two hundred who started over Donner Pass with Levi Hancock and who met Sam Brannan and James Brown near Truckee Lake. In the end, about half of them returned to California while the rest came on. (See Norma B. Ricketts, “The Forgotten Pioneers: Part Two,” Crossroads8 [Fall 1997]: 8, for a list of those who came on to the Valley with Hancock’s group in 1847.) Captain Brown went back to California with them to collect their back pay from the army and brought back almost five thousand dollars in gold in 1848. About fifty of those who returned to California were hired by John Sutter to build his sawmill on the American River. Thus they were there helping to dig the millrace for that mill when James Marshall, Sutter’s foreman, noticed the glint of shiny gold metal in the water. The California gold rush was on. (See MB,pp. 169–77.)

  For some time the exact date of the discovery was not known, but it was the journal entry of Henry Bigler, a battalion member, that proved it happened on 24 January 1848 (see MB,pp. 197–98).

  The California gold rush became a major influence in U.S. history, and those from the battalion who were in the area became part of that history. Ironically, John Sutter, who was situated as well as any man to capitalize on the gold rush, ended up being ruined by the discovery. Sutter said that the Mormons were the only ones who didn’t desert him. They stayed and finished the work they had contracted to do. Then he added: “Paid off all the Mormons which have been employed by me. . . . All of them made their pile and some of them became very rich and wealthy but all of them are bound to the Great Salt Lake and [will] spend their fortunes there to the glory and honor of the Lord.” (As cited in MB,p. 203.)

  Sam Brannan went back to San Francisco, where he became prominent in northern California history. When the gold rush broke out, his mercantile business made him wealthy (some say he was California’s first millionaire). Some accused him of using tithing money which he had collected from the BrooklynSaints for his own uses. Disillusioned with the Church for not sharing his vision of California, he drifted away from the faith and eventually was disfellowshipped. He became a heavy drinker. His fortunes changed, and he lost huge amounts of money in land development schemes, reaching a point where he even sold pencils on th
e streets of Nogales, Mexico. Eventually, however, he gave up drinking, repaid some of his debts, and lived out the rest of his life quietly. He died on 6 May 1889, almost forty-three years after the Brooklynsailed through the Golden Gate and anchored near Yerba Buena. (See CS,pp. 219–24; Paul Bailey, Sam Brannan and the California Mormons[Los Angeles: Westernlore Press, 1943], pp. 129–35.)

  Chapter 49

  The roughly two hundred members of the Mormon Battalion who met Captain James Brown at Truckee Lake the first week of September divided themselves, half continuing eastward, half turning back with Captain Brown to spend another winter in California. For Peter, the return trip passed swiftly. This was the fourth time he had journeyed on the trail across the vast emptiness, but this time would be the last. He knew full well that Kathryn had resigned herself to the fact that he would not return until next summer. As he himself had. Now, not only was he returning, but he was bringing with him Josh, Alice and Will, and the baby no one else in the family had yet seen.

  They made steady if not remarkable progress. At Sutter’s Fort, Will had purchased a wagon for Alice and Jared, who were the only woman and child in the company. The men also had a couple of wagons to carry their tents and supplies, but all except the wagon drivers walked. They left Truckee Lake on the eighth of September. After coming out of the Sierra, some of the men who felt like they weren’t moving fast enough asked their leaders for permission to go on ahead. If their families were not in the Valley, then they would still have time to press on to Winter Quarters to find them. The Indians who had caused so much grief for the Donner Party attempted to harass the group, now split into several smaller companies, but with the travelers’ manpower, the Indians posed no real threat other than the loss of animals.

  As Peter and Sam Brannan had done earlier that year, they determined that they would not risk taking the Hastings Cutoff and the more direct route to the Salt Lake Valley. They turned north, rejoined the Oregon Trail at the Snake River, and continued east to Fort Hall, reaching there on October sixth, not quite a month after splitting up. They purchased a few supplies at Fort Hall and then, after resting for a short time, turned south, heading for the Valley of the Great Salt Lake.