[SAMWolf]

Militiamen also sent circulars into camp encouraging soldiers to desert. All who did not wish to fight were offered $50, employment and safe passage to California. The Contributor claimed that 400 soldiers accepted the offer. While the Utah newspaper was probably exaggerating, 400 desertions out of 2,500 troops does fall within the 12 to 20 percent range of desertion statistics reported for the era.


Army Train crossing the plains

Not all of the soldiers who took "French leave" went on to California. Charles Henry Wilcken was a veteran of the Prussian army who had a low opinion of U.S. Army discipline. He deserted, took a job with Brigham Young and remained in Utah Territory.

Scouts watched army movements from bluffs overlooking their road and camp, in plain view of their enemies but out of range of their rifles and cannon. A few moved in closer. Porter Rockwell boasted he hid so close to the trail that he could have reached out and touched the soldiers as they marched along. Ephraim Hanks thought he was a little too close the night a company cook threw kitchen scraps over his hiding place. Intelligence also came from sympathetic mountaineers and Indians who had access to the army camps. Even Captain Gove had to compliment the Mormons on their efficient express and spy system.

Sometimes the poorly supplied and hungry militiamen picked up more than information. John Bagley "borrowed" about 50 pounds of bacon and a shotgun from an army supply wagon. The single most damaging and controversial operation of the winter campaign was the burning of three army wagon trains with 500,000 pounds of government supplies. The 27-year-old Major Lot Smith became a Utah legend for leading these audacious raids.

Smith was a redheaded, hot-tempered eccentric who would purchase the largest pair of boots available in order to get the most for his money. At 16, he had stood on tiptoe to be tall enough so that he could go with the Mormon Battalion during the Mexican War. General Wells himself gave Smith the order to turn the freight trains strung out along the emigrant road back east, or else destroy them.


Infantryman on left & mounted rifleman to the right. Regulation 1857 U.S. Army Uniforms

Civilians contracted from Majors & Russell, the foremost freight haulers of the day, manned these wagon trains. The first wagon master confronted by Utah's cavalry ignored Smith's warning, obtained army protection for his wagons, and continued west. Smith's band thereafter resorted to the second option. With no more than 24 men, Smith intercepted the next train on the Big Sandy fork of the Green River. The raiders approached just after dark. Teamsters appeared drunk, so Smith waited until after midnight to allow the men to grow drowsy and less combative.

Smith discovered too late that he had misunderstood his scout's report. Instead of one train of 26 wagons in two lines, there were actually two trains of 26 wagons each, camped a short distance apart. Not one to retreat, Smith trusted in the elements of surprise and divine providence. His 24 men disarmed the 60-some teamsters of the first train and then the second without the bullwhackers realizing just how few raiders they actually faced.

Smith allowed the teamsters to get their personal effects from the wagons while the Mormons searched for supplies they needed, particularly overcoats. Smith asked whether there was gunpowder in the wagons, which could explode and cause injuries during a fire. The wagon master, John Dawson, protested that saltpeter and sulfur could be almost as dangerous, so Smith and one of his men, an Irish-Catholic called Big James, fired the wagons themselves.

Two unexpected visitors interrupted their work. An army express rider carried the tardy message that wagon masters should keep a night guard on their trains because "the Mormons were in the field." Dawson took little comfort in hearing that they were to receive a military escort in the morning. Their second visitor was an Indian who requested wagon covers, flour and soap from the plundered train.


Fort Bridger

The next day, about noon, the raiders encountered their third supply train. Without the cover of darkness, it appears that Smith employed a stratagem to disguise Mormon numbers. He sent his men around a large knoll in sight of the bullwhackers. Then they rode down a deep gully, out of sight, and came back around the back side, to appear in front of the peak again. Repeating this several times gave the impression to observers of a greater force than Smith actually had. Riding into camp, the Mormons quickly disarmed the teamsters and learned that the wagon master was down by the river, bringing up cattle. Smith met the bull wagon boss about a half a mile away, where a bend in the Big Sandy cuts an unusual hollow out of the bluff. That area is now known as Simpson's Hollow.

Captain Lewis Simpson was a son-in-law of Alexander Majors, one of the co-owners of the freight company, and was considered one of the most reliable wagon masters on the Plains. He also had the reputation of nearly always killing someone on his trips.

In spite of Smith's men getting the drop on him, he refused to surrender his pistols. Simpson galloped back to camp, only to find his men disarmed and under guard. It was only then that he would acknowledge that Smith had him at a disadvantage. Feeling challenged, or maybe a bit amused by the blustering Simpson, Smith offered to give back their weapons. The teamsters refused to shoot it out, however, protesting that they were hired to whack bulls, not to fight.

Without recourse, Simpson worried loudly about his reputation as a wagon master and wheedled Smith into leaving them a wagonload of supplies so they wouldn't starve. Smith ended up giving Simpson two wagons full of supplies, calling him the bravest man he'd met during the campaign.


Charles Henry Wilcken

Militiamen sought what food, clothing, arms and ammunition they could carry, separated out the two wagons, and burned the rest. Lyman Porter felt it a shame to destroy so much property, as did others who rode with Smith. These were men who had experienced much deprivation on the Utah frontier. Neither was it in their nature to be thieves and vandals. The 24-year-old Porter became fascinated by a resin soap that melted and ran in a big yellow stream from the burning wagons and then cooled on the snow below. He used his knife to cut out a chunk, which he carried home. After the conflict was over, he returned a pistol he had taken in a raid to its rightful owner.

Having "cooked a feast for the coyotes," the raiders mounted their horses and rode away, with the wagons still burning. Lot Smith had a $1,000 reward placed on his head for leading this operation. In months to come, this deliberate destruction of government property was the one act of war that Mormon leadership could not deny. Between the burned trains and loss of cattle, the army troops and their civilian contingent were forced on "a most rigid economy in [food] distribution," according to Elizabeth Cumming, wife of the new governor. Captain Gove feared they might have to dine on mule meat before supplies could be received in the spring.

In spite of the increasingly chilly weather, Smith's boys felt the warmth of success and itched for more encounters. A week went by and they met no more freight trains plodding into the territory. The morning of October 11, however, Smith's party bumped into some of their colleagues, O.P. Rockwell and his men.


Orrin Porter Rockwell

r> Orrin Porter Rockwell was another of the colorful Mormon scout captains. He was an able gunman who had become well known (and for some notorious) during the earlier conflicts in Missouri and Illinois. He had worn his hair and beard long ever since his boyhood friend, the Mormon prophet Joseph Smith, had promised Rockwell that if he never cut them, his enemies could not overpower him. While Rockwell's contemporaries almost never mention his militia rank, Adjutant William Stowell calls him "Col. Rockwell," which is a likely rank given his experience and responsibilities.

Rockwell and his men had been watching troop movements, burning grass, and running off an occasional mule or steer. He was restless for something more exciting. The two captains decided to unite, swelling their force to some eighty men, which they led down the river to Ham's Fork near the rear of the army column.

Additional Sources:

www.newgenevacenter.org
de.wikipedia.org
www.lightplanet.com
ourworld.cs.com
www.csulb.edu
helaman.pratt-family.org
www.upoa.org
www.globalsecurity.org
www.lightplanet.com
pao.hood.army.mil
www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com
www.truesecretsof.com
historytogo.utah.gov
wyoshpo.state.wy.us
www.bliss.army.mil

[SAMWolf]

They were in luck as they came across a herd of cattle numbering about 700 head. Sitting on a bluff planning strategy, however, the alliance threatened to unravel. Rockwell thought Smith was "venturesome" and reckless. Rockwell warned him that the troops had found out what a "damn fool" Smith was and had set a trap for him. He suspected that the willows shielded artillery, which would blow them "higher than Gilderoy's kite" when they tried to take the stock. Smith suggested Rockwell could sit this one out if he was afraid. Rockwell told Smith he would see him somewhere else first. The older frontiersman declared that he had waited 40 years for a chance like this and he wouldn't let Smith spoil it for him. He then raised his glass and looked for the cannons.


Alfred Cumming

Without a word, Smith kicked his mount and started down the steep bluff and the two miles to the cattle. Rockwell was furious, cursing at Smith to wait for the rest of them to catch up. But Smith was already committed. As soon as the Utah force came into view, the guards began driving the cattle toward the army camp. The raiders managed to head them off, at which point the guards chose not to oppose them.

Raiders cut out 20 of the poorer cattle and drove the rest away. Rockwell indulged himself, intimidating the anxious guards, boasting that they would "kill every man of them" if Col. Alexander didn't release three Mormon prisoners. Later that night the gunman had a good laugh over their guards' reactions and the success of the operation. Smith had a good laugh too, ribbing Rockwell about the nonexistent cannons. Rockwell took a few men and drove the cattle into the Salt Lake Valley. Smith later described their brief partnership, "I did as I pleased and [Rockwell] regularly damned me for it."

Smith's band was now at 60 and growing bolder. James P. Terry tells of following so closely behind the army column that his friends asked straggling soldiers for a chew of tobacco. That evening they ran in the picket guard and camped within a mile of the troops.

Losses of stock from raiding parties and constant sightings of Mormons "hovering about" finally induced the patient Alexander to take action. On October 15, he organized several companies mounted on mules. Smith's men did not take this "jackass cavalry," partially bareback and using blind bridles, seriously. It was nearly a fatal mistake.

That night the cold was so intense that Smith's men couldn't sleep. Some tried jumping up and down to keep warm. Around four in the morning, a mounted unit under the command of Captain Randolph B. Marcy of the 5th Infantry headed out with a force 100 strong "to have a brush with Lot Smith."


Jim Bridger

At about daybreak, Smith's men heard the tramping and braying of the mules. Supposing the soldiers were taking their mules to graze, the raiders saddled up, left their packs with a small squad and followed, hoping to drive the animals away. As it got light enough to see, Smith found that soldiers were mounted on this herd. At about the same moment, the soldiers discovered the Mormons right on their heels. There was some lively scampering as the troops whirled into line, slipped off their mounts and brought their guns to the ready. Smith ordered his men into a line about 40 yards from the soldiers. Then the two captains advanced halfway for a parley.

Marcy introduced himself and confirmed that he was speaking with "Captain Smith." He extended an invitation to visit Colonel Alexander, which was declined, then proceeded to talk about almost everything but their present position. Marcy claimed they were searching out a road to Utah and only smiled when Smith declared that this was nonsense, pointing out that the troops had left that road some time ago. (Smith later regretted his attitude, remembering that Marcy had remained a gentleman, calm and civil toward him.)

Smith coolly dismounted and tightened his cinch during the conversation, noting the soldiers knocking the powder down in their guns. Marcy asked Smith to take some letters of introduction into Salt Lake City for him, but Smith declined, saying he wouldn't be going into the valley anytime soon. The captains then observed that time was passing and parted company.

Smith's band hurried back to pick up their men and pack horses, fully aware of their precarious position. Marcy's command rode along a high ridge to the right, keeping Smith's force in sight. As Smith collected his men, Alexander sprang the trap, although not the one Rockwell had expected. Three companies of infantry suddenly appeared on their left, and with Marcy's jackass cavalry to the right, the militiamen were nearly surrounded. Their only escape was through the icy waters of Ham's Fork and up a steep bluff on the other side. Looking back years later, James P. Terry couldn't imagine how they ever crossed the river, as it was a terrible ford with high, steep banks on both sides. Desperation proved a tremendous motivation. Smith himself scrambled across first, his horse barely making it up the far bank. Downstream was only slightly better, but the Mormons frantically crossed while the mule-mounted cavalry thundered up behind.

Marcy's men called for them to halt, but Smith's raiders leisurely rode up the hill, stopping only to exchange some unbecoming language across Ham's Fork. The soldiers seemed to be heading back to camp, so at the top of the ridge, Smith's men felt safe enough to rest and tighten their saddles. It was a rocky area and would have made good cover in a fight; nevertheless, Smith continued down into the valley, not realizing that Marcy's cavalry was crossing the river below out of their view.


Nauvoo Legion

Smith was feeling euphoric, with even a little sympathy for Marcy for letting his men slip through his fingers, when the soldiers reached the top of the ridge. They fired more than 30 shots at the Mormons, at a range of 150 yards. One militiaman took a bullet through his hatband, and a horse was grazed in the leg.

Now Smith was mad. Whether his ire rose more at Marcy for shooting at them or at himself for leaving the high ground, he didn't say, but once they rode out of range, he sent all but 12 of his men away and tried to entice the soldiers to come down out of the rocks and finish the matter. Marcy had too much sense to let his men leave their cover, and this time Smith had enough sense not to go back up the ridge. And so there the matter ended.

From this time, the army became more aggressive, sending out regular patrols. Three times in as many weeks, soldiers nearly caught Mormons in their ambushes, and the guerrillas barely ducked army bullets. Utah's cavalry would not stand and fight however, and were the better mounted. The Nauvoo Legion continued to run off horses, mules and cattle, in spite of patrols, until 1,500 captured head grazed peacefully in the Salt Lake Valley. Among them was a favorite white mule of Colonel Alexander's. As it turned out, these animals fared far better than had they wintered with the army.

After 10 weeks of irregular warfare, ironically it was some half-cooked government beef and beans that almost did what the soldiers could not. Sick to his stomach, a half-frozen and exhausted Lot Smith headed back to Echo Canyon and home.

Colonel Albert Sidney Johnston finally arrived in the army camp near Harris Fork on November 3, boosting morale considerably. Following a few days' assessment, his troops headed southwest, hoping to push to Salt Lake City, but Mother Nature took over where the Mormons left off, and winter began laying down blankets of snow upon the high mountain plains. It took the 15-mile-long army column 15 days to travel just 35 miles through the snow. Hundreds of oxen and mules died along the trail. "It is quite Russian," Gove remarked, referring to Napoleon's retreat from Moscow. Many soldiers were left pulling their own wagons due to the loss of their stock through weather and theft.



After besieging Fort Bridger and finding only empty, charred ruins, the Utah Expedition went into winter quarters. Once the members of the Nauvoo Legion were satisfied that Johnston's Army (as it is often called in today's Utah) "had the fight frozen out of them"--at least for the moment--they left a handful of their warmest-clothed men to keep watch and sent the rest home.

To the end, the Mormon commanders fueled the troops' perception that Echo Canyon was a death trap. In early April 1858, Utah's newly appointed territorial governor, Alfred Cumming, accepted an invitation to come alone into Salt Lake City to discuss the situation. His Mormon escorts brought him through Echo Canyon at night. While only 100 militiamen had been called back to their stronghold, they built 350 campfires along the hillsides. Infantry and cavalry formed single-file lines of 25 on either side of the roadway. As the governor's carriage passed by, they would sneak ahead behind the lines under the cover of darkness and sagebrush, presenting themselves repeatedly to their new governor. Later chagrined when he learned of the trick played at his expense, Cumming nonetheless became a proponent for a peaceful solution.

Alexander's earlier avoidance of Echo Canyon and the militia's harassment certainly delayed the troops' advance, allowing winter to set in, and providing time "for something to turn up," as Utah's Mormon leadership had hoped. That "something" turned out to be the U.S. Congress.

Critics in the Eastern press, as well as in the House and Senate felt that Buchanan had not handled the Utah problem very well. Reports from the regiment's assistant quartermaster, Captain Stewart Van Vliet, as well as from Mormon sympathizer Thomas L. Kane--both of whom had journeyed to Salt Lake City during the fall and winter--had a mollifying effect in Washington. The president's requests for appropriations to cover reinforcements and unanticipated expenses were delayed, reduced or ignored. As more pressing issues, such as the debate over slavery, overshadowed Utah's defiance, Buchanan reconsidered.

Only days before spring thaw and resupply would permit Johnston's Army to move west, Buchanan's "Peace Commission" arrived in the territory bearing a pardon for the Mormon people. Brigham Young's acceptance on June 12, 1858, on behalf of his people was positive if not gracious: "I have no character to protect, no pride to gratify, no vanity to please. If a man comes from the moon and says he will pardon me for kicking him in the moon yesterday, I don't care about it. I'll accept of his pardon. It don't affect me one way or the other."


Colonel Albert Sidney Johnston

Peace returned to Utah Territory, to the disappointment of the now brevetted General Johnston and his officers. As a precaution, Young moved his people to the south and posted guards to burn the city should their agreement be violated. Johnston's Army, however, marched professionally through an eerily empty Salt Lake City and built Camp Floyd 40 miles to the southwest, in present-day Cedar Valley. Utah's citizens returned to their homes, and life resumed mostly as it had before, although tension and controversy would stalk the territory for some years to come.

It is uncertain what might have happened had the conflict escalated. The Echo and East Canyon defenses probably could have been flanked, but in such rugged terrain, forcing the canyon would have come at a considerable cost in lives. What is clear, though, is that victory is not always achieved through battle. In the years to come, long after Governor Cumming, General Johnston and others from the Utah Expedition had returned to their Eastern and Southern homes to participate in a much more tragic and disastrous rebellion, Utah's militiamen would take great pride in telling the stories of how the Nauvoo Legion had defended their fellow Mormons from perceived injustice in a bloodless winter campaign.

In their view, the Almighty had "put a hook in the mouths of their enemies," and had allowed their ragtag, undersupplied, and poorly armed militia to confound some of the best and the brightest of the U.S. Army.

[Victoria Delsoul]

Hi everybody. This Santa reminds me of Sam... don't know why.