_The Host of Israel Goes forth to Battle_
He went north in answer to the call for soldiers. He went gladly. It
promised activity--and company.
A score of them left Cedar City with much warlike talk, with many
ringing prophecies of confusion to the army now marching against them,
and to the man who had sent it. They cited Fremont, Presidential
candidate of the newly organised Republican party the year before, with
his catch phrase, "The abolition of slavery and polygamy, the twin
relics of barbarism." Fremont had been defeated. And there was Stephen
A. Douglas, once their staunch friend and advocate in Illinois; but the
year before he had turned against them, styling polygamy "the loathsome
ulcer of the body politic," asserting that the people of Utah were bound
by oath to recognise only the authority of Brigham Young; that they were
forming alliances with Indians and organising Danite bands to rob and
murder American citizens; and urging a rigid investigation into these
enormities. For this slander Brigham had hurled upon him the anathema
of the priesthood, in consequence of which Douglas had failed to secure
even a nomination for the high office which he sought.
And now Buchanan was in a way to draw upon himself that retribution
which must ever descend upon the foes of Israel. Brigham was at last to
unleash the dogs of war. They recalled his saying when they came into
the valley, "If they will let us alone for ten years, we will ask no
odds of Uncle Sam or the Devil." The ten years had passed and the Devil
was taking them at their word. One of them recalled the prophecy of
another inspired leader, Parley Pratt, the Archer of Paradise: "Within
ten years from now the people of this country who are not Mormons will
be entirely subdued by the Latter-day Saints or swept from the face of
the earth; and if this prophecy fails, then you may know the Book of
Mormon is not true."
Their great day was surely at hand. Their God of Battles reigned. All
through the Territory the leaders preached, prayed, and taught nothing
but war; the poets made songs only of war; and the people sang only
these. Public works and private were alike suspended, save the
manufacture of new arms, the repairing of old, and the sharpening of
sabers and bayonets.
On the way, to fire their ardour, they were met by Brigham's
proclamation. It recited that "for the last twenty-five years we have
trusted officials of the government from constables and justices to
judges, governors, and presidents, only to be scorned, held in
derision, insulted, and betrayed. Our houses have been plundered and
burned, our fields laid waste, our chief men butchered while under the
pledged faith of the government for their safety; and our families
driven from their homes to find that shelter in the wilderness and that
protection among hostile savages which were denied them in the boasted
abodes of Christianity and civilisation." It concluded by forbidding all
armed forces of every description to enter the Territory under any
pretence whatever, and declaring martial law to exist until further
notice. The little band hurried on, eager to be at the front.
The day he reached Salt Lake City, Joel Rae was made major of militia.
The following day, he attended the meeting at the tabernacle. He needed,
for reasons he did not fully explain to himself, to receive fresh
assurance of Brigham's infallibility, of his touch with the Holy Ghost,
of his goodness as well as his might; to be caught once more by the
compelling magnetism of his presence, the flash of his eye, and the
inciting tones of his voice. All this he found.
"Is there," asked Brigham, "a collision between us and the United
States? No, we have not collashed--that is the word that sounds nearest
to what I mean. But the thread is cut between us and we will never gybe
again, no, never--worlds without end. I am not going to have their
troops here to protect the priests and rabble in their efforts to drive
us from the land we possess. The Lord does not want us to be driven. He
has said to me, 'If you will assert your rights and keep my
commandments, you shall never again be brought into bondage by your
enemies.' The United States says that their army is legal, but I say
that such a statement is false as hell, and that those States are as
rotten as an old pumpkin that has been frozen seven times over and then
thawed in a harvest sun. We can't have that army here and have
peace--you might as well tell me you could make hell into a
powder-house. And so we shall melt those troops away. I promise you our
enemies shall never 'slip the bow on old Bright's neck again.'"
Joel Rae was again under the sway of his old warlike feelings. Brigham
had revived his fainting faith. He went out into the noise and hurry of
war preparations in a sort of intoxication. Underneath he never ceased
to be conscious of the dreadful specter that would not be gone--that
stood impassive and immovable as one of the mountains about him, waiting
for him to come to it and face it and live his day of reckoning,--the
day of his own judgment upon himself. But he drank thirstily of the
martial draught and lived the time in a fever of tumultuous drunkenness
to the awful truth.
He saw to it that he was never alone by day or night. Once a new thought
and a sudden hope came to him, and he had been about to pray that in the
campaign he was entering he might be killed. But a second thought
stayed him; he had no right to die until he had faced his own judgment.
The army of Israel was now well organised. It had taken all able-bodied
males between the ages of eighteen and forty-five. There were a
lieutenant-general, four generals, eleven colonels, and six majors. In
addition to the Saints' own forces there were the Indians, for Brigham
had told a messenger who came to ascertain his disposition toward the
approaching army that he would "no longer hold the Indians by the
wrist." This messenger had suggested that, while the army might be kept
from entering the valley that winter, it would assuredly march in, the
following spring. Brigham's reply had not lacked the point that
sharpened most of his words.
"Before we shall suffer what we have in times gone by we will burn and
lay waste our improvements, and you will find the desert here again.
There will not be left one building, nor one foot of lumber, nor a stick
or tree or particle of grass or hay that will burn. I will lay this
valley utterly waste in the name of Israel's God. We have three years'
provisions, which we will cache, and then take to the mountains." The
messenger had returned to Fort Bridger and the measures of defense went
forward in the valley.
Forces were sent into Echo Canon, the narrow defile between the
mountains through which an army would have to pass. On the east side men
were put to building stone ramparts as a protection for riflemen. On
the west, where the side was sloping, they dug pits for the same
purpose. They also built dams to throw large bodies of water along the
west side of the canon so that an army would be forced to the east side;
and here at the top of the cliff, great quantities of boulders were
placed so that a slight leverage would suffice to hail them down upon
the army as it marched below.
When word came that the invaders had crossed the Utah line, Brigham sent
forward a copy of his proclamation and a friendly note of warning to the
officer in command. In this he directed that officer to retire from the
Territory by the same route he had entered it; adding, however, "should
you deem this impracticable and prefer to remain until spring in the
vicinity of your present position at Black's Fork or Green River, you
can do so in peace and unmolested on condition that you deposit your
arms and ammunition with Lewis Robinson, Quartermaster-General of the
Territory, and leave as soon in the spring as the roads will permit you
to march. And should you fall short of provisions they will be furnished
you upon making the proper application." The officer who received this
note had replied somewhat curtly that the forces he commanded were in
Utah by order of the President of the United States and that their
future movements would depend wholly upon orders issued by competent
military authority. Thus the issue was forced.
In addition to the defense of Echo Canon, certain aggressive moves were
made. To Joel Rae was allotted command of one of these. His orders
promised all he could wish of action. He read them and felt something
like his old truculent enthusiasm.
"You will proceed with all possible dispatch, without injuring your
animals, to the Oregon Road near the bend of Bear River, north by east
of this place. When you approach the road, send scouts ahead to
ascertain if the invading troops have passed that way. Should they have
passed, take a concealed route and get ahead of them. On ascertaining
the locality of the troops, proceed at once to annoy them in every
possible way. Use every exertion to stampede their animals and set fire
to their trains. Burn the whole country before them and on their flanks.
Keep them from sleeping, by night surprises; blockade the road by
felling trees, or destroying river fords where you can. Watch for
opportunities to set fire to the grass on their windward, so as to
envelope their trains if possible. Leave no grass before them that can
be burned. Keep your men concealed as much as possible, and guard
against surprise. God bless you and give you success.
"YOUR BROTHER IN CHRIST."
Forty-four men were placed under his command to perform this work, and
all of them were soon impressed, even to alarm, by the very evident
reliance of their leader upon the God of Israel rather than upon any
merely human wisdom of his own.
The first capture was not difficult. After an all-night ride they came
up with a supply-train of twenty-five wagons drawn by oxen. The captain
of this train was ordered to "go the other way" until he reached the
States. He started; but as he retraced his steps as often as they moved
away, they at length burned his train and left him.
And then the recklessness of the new-fledged major became manifest. He
sent one of his captains with twenty men to capture or stampede the
mules of the Tenth Regiment, while he with the remainder of his force
set off toward Sandy Fork in search of more wagon-trains. When his
scouts late in the day reported a train of twenty-six wagons, he was
advised by them that he ought not to attack it with so small a force;
but to this advice he was deaf, rebuking the men for their little faith.
He allowed the train to proceed until after dark, and then drew
cautiously near. Learning, however, that the drivers were drunk, he had
his force lie concealed for a time, fearing that they might prove
belligerent and thus compel him to shed blood, which he wished not to
do.
At midnight the scouts reported that the train was drawn up in two lines
for the night and that all was quiet. He mounted his command and ordered
an advance. Approaching the camp, they discovered a fact that the scouts
had failed to note; a second train had joined the first, and the little
host of Israel was now confronted by twice the anticipated force. This
discovery was made too late for them to retire unobserved. The men,
however, expected their leader to make some inquiry concerning the road
and then ride on. But they had not plumbed the depth of his faith.
As the force neared the camp-fire close to the wagons, the rear of the
column was lost in the darkness. What the teamsters about the fire saw
was an apparently endless column of men advancing upon them. Their
leader halted the column, called for the captain of the train, ordered
him to have his men stack their arms, collect their property, and stand
by under guard. Dismounting from his horse, he fashioned a torch and
directed one of the drivers to apply it to the wagons, in order that
"the Gentiles might spoil the Gentiles." By the time the teamsters had
secured their personal belongings and a little stock of provisions for
immediate necessity the fifty wagons were ablaze. The following day, on
the Big Sandy, they destroyed another train and a few straggling
sutlers' wagons.
And so the campaign went forward. As the winter came on colder, the
scouts brought in moving tales of the enemy's discomfiture. Colonel
Alexander of the Federal forces, deciding that the canons could be
defended by the Saints, planned to approach Salt Lake City over a
roundabout route to the north. He started in heavy snow, cutting a road
through the greasewood and sage-brush. Often his men made but three
miles a day, and his supply-train was so long that sometimes half of it
would be camped for the night before the rear wagons had moved. As there
was no cavalry in the force the hosts of Israel harassed them sorely on
this march, on one day consecrating eight hundred head of their oxen and
driving them to Salt Lake.
Albert Sidney Johnston, commanding the expedition, had also suffered
greatly with his forces. The early snows deprived his stock of forage,
and the unusual cold froze many oxen and mules.
Lieutenant-Colonel Cooke of the Second Dragoons, with whom travelled the
newly appointed governor, was another to suffer. At Fort Laramie so many
of his animals had dropped out that numbers of his men were dismounted,
and the ambulances used to carry grain. Night after night they huddled
at the base of cliffs in the fearful eddies of the snow, and heard above
the blast the piteous cries of their famished and freezing stock. Day
after day they pushed against the keen blades of the wind, toiling
through frozen clouds and stinging ice blasts. The last thirty-five
miles to Fort Bridger had required fifteen days, and at one camp on
Black's Fork, which they called the "camp of Death," five hundred
animals perished in a night.
Nor did the hardships of the troops end when they had all reached what
was to be their winter quarters. Still a hundred and fifteen miles from
the City of the Saints, they were poorly housed against the bitter cold,
poorly fed, and insufficiently clothed, for the burning of the trains by
the Lord's hosts had reduced all supplies.
Reports of this distress were duly carried to Brigham and published to
the Saints. Their soldiers had made good their resolve to prevent the
Federal army from passing the Wasatch Mountains. Aggressive operations
ceased for the winter, and the greater part of the militia returned to
their homes. A small outpost of fifty men under the command of Major
Joel Rae--who had earnestly requested this assignment--was left to guard
the narrows of Echo Canon and to keep watch over the enemy during the
winter. This officer was now persuaded that the Lord's hand was with
them. For the enemy had been wasted away even by the elements from the
time he had crossed the forbidden line.
In Salt Lake City that winter, the same opinion prevailed. They were
henceforth to be the free and independent State of Deseret.
"Do you want to know," asked Brigham, in the tabernacle, "what is to be
done with the enemy now on our borders? As soon as they start to come
into our settlements, let sleep depart from their eyes until they sleep
in death! Men shall be secreted along the route and shall waste them
away in the name of the God of Battles. The United States will have to
make peace with us. Never again shall we make peace with them."
And they sang with fervour:--
"By the mountains our Zion's surrounded,
Her warriors are noble and brave;
And their faith on Jehovah is founded,
Whose power is mighty to save.
Opposed by a proud, boasting nation,
Their numbers compared may be few;
But their Ruler is known through creation,
And they'll always be faithful and true."